


Angst and Sexytimes

by viraseii



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Actor Lance (Voltron), Alternate Universe - Hollywood, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Break Up, F/F, F/M, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Set Director Keith (Voltron), Slow Burn, Smut, Sort Of, Unreliable Narrator, i mean its in third person but still keiths viewpoint, so i guess unreliable viewpoint
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-08
Updated: 2018-12-04
Packaged: 2018-12-25 05:48:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 49,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12029451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/viraseii/pseuds/viraseii
Summary: They didn't kiss.They did kiss in the way that his skin is delicate and splotched the next morning. But they didn't kiss in the way that sends euphoria shooting into Keith's prefrontal cortex. They didn't kiss in the way that Keith has to reapply chapstick before sleeping. They didn't kiss in the way that Lance greets him with French toast and Imagine Dragons on the radio.Lance doesn't greet him like that.Lance greets him with the radio antenna down, the tv off, the stove cold, and the words "we need to break up" between sips from a single glass of orange juice. The words "we need to break up" accompanied by the lull of rushing water and the thud of confusion tight against Keith's chest.





	1. orange juice

**Author's Note:**

> In celebration of my acceptance to my first zine :)

The last time they have sex as a couple is slow.

It's soft and pink at the edges instead of red like it sometimes is, pink because it's diluted, because it's gentle, because it's more of a _see you later_ than a _hello._ the bedsheets are dark blue. Keith remembers the dark blue bedsheets and the way it's only nine thirty when he finds himself squeezing his eyes shut, gripping Lance's shoulders with fingers of steel, heat pooling too thick and tipping over, Lance shuddering and pulling in a shaky breath as his body stills. As he pulls out and sighs down into the sheets. As he begins putting permanent distance between them.

Keith remembers how they don't kiss afterwards. Remembers Lance falling asleep as the minute hand starts dragging up to complete the half circle. Remembers waking up alone, blanket-less because the blankets are in the wash. Remembers how he can hear the water rushing, remembers being pissed because now the sheets will have to go in with a second load.

Lance putting permanent distance between them. Because Keith bought these bedsheets. And the blankets are Lance's.

Their last fuck as a couple is not a happy memory. Sensual, intimate, but cold, like jumping naked into snow, only this is pink at the edges like the bubblegum Keith gets up to spit out at nine fifty. He's been chewing it for an hour. They didn't kiss.

They did kiss in the way that his skin is delicate and splotched the next morning. But they didn't kiss in the way that sends euphoria shooting into Keith's prefrontal cortex. They didn't kiss in the way that Keith has to reapply chapstick before sleeping. They didn't kiss in the way that Lance greets him with French toast and Imagine Dragons on the radio.

Lance doesn't greet him like that.

Lance greets him with the radio antenna down, the tv off, the stove cold, and the words "we need to break up" between sips from a single glass of orange juice. The words "we need to break up" accompanied by the lull of rushing water and the thud of confusion tight against Keith's chest.

They bought the washing machine together, but the apartment is in Lance's name and Keith has to wash his dark blue bedsheets at Shiro's house.

"What?"

Shiro and Allura are having French toast when he shows up. They're responsible adults who have breakfast at six in the evening. Lance doesn't help Keith pack.

"We need to break up. This isn't working out."

Imagine Dragons is getting pretty overplayed, he thinks, as he follows Shiro and turns left at the intersection. It's his car, because Lance bought the motorcycle. He changes the channel and it's Justin Bieber now.

"Care... to elaborate...?"

It was Lance's gum, actually, but he doesn't like cinnamon so Keith tucks it into his pocket instead. Four years is a long time.

"I need you to leave. Just take some of your stuff and go, we can split it evenly over the next few weeks, but this isn't working. I can't - we have a lot of differences and I can't keep going with this."

He has all his suitcases because suitcases are the only constant when you're changing worlds. In four years you get dual citizenship. In four years you study abroad a year in Japan. In four years you replace more than half of your wardrobe.

"Is this about yesterday?"

In four years, your suitcases are the only things that stay with you wherever you go, no matter how many things you change.

"I think it was more like... _yesterday_ was about this."

Yesterday is when Keith cancelled his reservation to Altea because their fight put a damper on the whole take-Lance-to-a-surprise-dinner-date idea.

"Four years is a long time."

Yesterday would have been a nice anniversary date. Keith thought so, at least.

"I know."

He forces himself not to look at Shiro when he walks out after making his return at the jewelry store.

"You've... really thought about this, then, huh? You're sure."

The man working there asks him _Did she have another one in mind? With more bling, maybe?_ and says _She's a lucky girl. You're putting a lot of thought into this._ He remembers Keith from the three weeks Keith spent picking the right ring.

"Yeah. Keith. I'm... definitely sure. Please just... just go, please..."

Shiro's spare bedroom is painted pink.

"I... okay... we're not done talking about this. But. But oh... okay....."

Keith finds Allura's ring while he's stuffing his dark blue bedsheets into the washing machine. She thanks him with shimmering eyes. Shiro proposed to her in Altea exactly eighteen months ago, plus one day because yesterday was their half-anniversary. Not that they kept track. But Keith kind of wanted to know for his own reasons.

He tries calling Lance later, after dinner. He doesn't pick up.

These bedsheets are purple.

The bed without Lance is cold and uncomfortable.

It's only nine thirty when Keith falls asleep.

-

He doesn't go back the next day. Sometimes you're at work and the next scene is supposed to be finalized in a week, so you go home and instead of designing a set you draw Princess Leia being badass. Sometimes Lance tells you you can split stuff over the next few weeks and so the first day you sleep until noon and draw Luke facing off with Darth Vader because it's a good scene that will never have too much fan art. You check twitter and read through YouTube comments on your last speedpaint. You avoid thinking about Lance at all.

Obviously, it doesn't work. Like the set design, it's a dilemma that works away at itself in your head whether you want it to or not. You're drawing Leia and you keep thinking about the material of the stairs. You're deleting a rude comment and you keep thinking about -

_"You always do this! Sometimes I don't tell you things because I forget or because I don't think they're important enough to gather your attention for! Sometimes I go out with friends and it's not very exciting so you find out from BuzzFeed because I don't think it's nearly as life-changing as the media makes it out to be!"_

_"I care about you, damn it," Keith yells, gripping Lance's arms hard. "I care about your life and I want to know what's going on with you because we're_ together _and I_ care about you. _"_

_"It slipped my mind!" Lance shouts, jerking himself away from Keith's grip. "You're obsessive, you know that? Why do you care about all these little details so much? What's with you? When I'm trying to plan a trip to Maui you're all, 'let's book a plane and a hotel and just go' but when I come home after eleven you suddenly need to know who I talked to and where I went and what I did - I have a life outside of you!"_

_"I'm jealous," Keith huffs. "Is that what you want to hear? I'm afraid that you're going to hook up with some hot stranger if I leave you for more than an hour."_

_"I know you're smarter than that," Lance scoffs, "which is why you need to stop obsessing so much over what I do outside of you. And you get so defensive, all the fucking time - I try to bring something up like 'hey what's up with you and Allura lately, you seem to be doing a lot of films with her,' and then you fucking victimize yourself and make things dramatic and turn it on me and my friendship with Nyma or with Hunk or-"_

_"That was because-"_

_"And you're doing it_ again. _You're suffocating, Keith! And you're so wrapped up in your own head and what's right and wrong for you that you can't for once be considerate about what other people want!"_

_It stings. Takes Keith a couple seconds to gather his wits enough to respond._

He spends a good hour on Luke's face, pouring out all his frustration and sadness into his art.

Shiro's girls don't leave him alone. They're fawning over his drawing, praising him and calling him the best artist in the world - he has a migraine and he eventually just sits them down in front of the TV with the Star Wars movies. Allura's at a Victoria's Secret shoot. Shiro's on set.

Keith should be on his own set. But he's not. Pidge can probably handle it. He'll miss lunch with Acxa, but.. that's fine, whatever.

Lance is probably on set, too, so... yeah, probably best for Keith to stay here if he hopes to stick to his plan of avoiding thinking about Lance.

And it works, for the most part, until Pidge starts blowing up his phone.

_Dude, where are you??_

_Guess who just fucked up the flowerbeds. Yeah, it was Lin. Guess why he couldn't get it right. Yeah, because my coworker is MIA._

_We're about to start rolling?? Dude this is a headache where are yoy_

_Lotor is bitching about you yk. You know how much of a perfectionist this guy is._

_Wow I've never seen you miss b t e a k t i m e keith where the fuck_

_Ohhhhh man I'm... really sorry... found out from Lance's personal. I thought he looked off today, I mean I should have guessed by how he kept avoiding my questions about where you're at. Are you okay dude?_

_Should I come over?_

_Come on at least respond to my texts I look like a fool with all these blue reflections on my glasses for the world to see_

_They can tell_

_They can tell I keep texting someone who JUST WONT RESPIND_

_come oooooooon Keith I know you're probably off being depressed but please man let's go get some coffee or smth_

_??? I never say please dude look what you've done to me_

_Ok Jesus ... take your time but im coming over after work_

_Wait isn't the apartment in Lance's name where you at_

Keith decides to indulge her, finally.

**shiro's**

_WOW HE LICES_

**leo is kind of a pain**

_Fame is gonna get to that kid's head if Allura keeps banging him. ___

**would you please for once fix your typos so I know what the fuck you're trying to say**

_*babying_

_Starbucks at 6?_

**fine**

* * *

Starbucks exists in its own reality. Coffee shops in general, Keith thinks, are removed from the rest of the world in a warm, pleasant, golden brown way. Starbucks is where people come to sit down and focus, study, cry about breakups, get their morning fix before heading out into something considerably harsher and hotter and drearier.

Starbucks cheers Keith up because he can chill in the corner with his triple shot frap, surrounded by his own dark cloud that hovers just beneath the sunburst-shaped lamp over his head. People buzz around him but leave him alone. Cars whip by just on the other side of the window to his back, but he can't see them, can't hear them - it's just him and his thoughts until the bubble breaks and Pidge slams a strawberry refresher down in front of him.

"Drink it, you look depressed as hell," she commands. Keith just gives her this look, and she smiles. "I'm really sorry, dude. Do you want to talk about it?"

Keith blows out a breath. The thing with Pidge is that if he _doesn't_ talk about it, she will not stop asking until he tells her. There's that fact, and the atmosphere of Starbucks that actually compels him to spill.

"We broke up."

"No, I got that part. Why? You guys were really solid."

Keith blows out a breath. That's the complicated part. "We had this fight. And I asked him if that was the reason he was breaking up, but he said that breaking up was the reason we had the fight, apparently? He says I'm..." Keith slips in another sip of his frappucino, trying to figure out how to phrase it. "Too obsessive... and defensive?"

Pidge frowns, tilting her head to one side and then the other before nodding. "I see that," she says.

"Thanks," Keith deadpans, hurt.

"Sorry, I didn't mean it like that. I mean, I see where his concerns are coming from."

Keith blows out a sigh. "Do I, like... victimize myself when I'm arguing with someone?"

Pidge winces. "You do, kind of, yeah," she says quietly, sipping. "You tend to get into this mindset where your logic is the only right answer, and if someone tries to call you out on it you get really defensive."

Keith tries to figure out what to say. He wants to defend himself - but he'd literally be proving Pidge's point, so he's forced to accept it as fair and move on. Not something he's good at, but. "Well, I guess that's how he feels."

Pidge looks at him. "It's not really your fault or anything-"

"No, I know that..."

"I'm sorry. It sucks. Especially since you were planning to..."

Keith closes his eyes. "I _know._ "

"You had to return the ring?"

"Yeah."

"Damn. You spent a long time picking that out..."

"I know."

"That's rough."

"I _know,_ Pidge." He drinks more of his frap just so Pidge will take the cue and stop.

"Leo's been causing trouble?"

He rolls with the topic change gratefully. "Not really. He stays shut up in his room blasting music - I didn't think teenagers actually did that in real life."

"Well, he's a young actor, he does love his movie tropes," Pidge says.

"I'm stuck with Leia and Luna, and they're such a _pain..._ "

Pidge grins. "Aww, but they're so cute... Remember when Shiro brought them to set and Acxa spoiled them with dresses?"

Keith snorts. "I fucking love that girl."

"Yeah, she missed you during lunch today," Pidge informs him. "That's when I found out that Lance and you..."

Aaaaaaand failed attempts at distracting Keith from his currently depressing love life, exhibit A.

"We should hit up some bar."

"Definitely not in the mood," Keith frowns.

"Yeah, on second thought, I don't want you to get arrested," Pidge considers.

"Thanks, Pidge. Thoughtful of you."

"I know. I'm the best." Pidge smiles at him.

Keith can't help the laugh on his lips. These shallow conversations are fun to indulge. "He deserved it."

"See, you keep sticking to that, but no one deserves a dislocated jaw no matter what they think about Star Trek."

"He _deserved it,_ Pidge."

Pidge rolls her eyes, sipping her drink. "You sure you don't want some?"

Keith's mind already feels like it's vibrating, and he's not even halfway through his drink - he definitely shouldn't ingest more caffeine, no matter how slight. But what the hell. He just vetoed Pidge's proposal that they go to a bar, so - "sure, gimme," and a loooong sip is the next best thing.

"I can't drink that now, your spit is on it," Pidge sighs.

"Why'd you even offer."

"I was being nice."

"Well, be nicer and let me drink it in peace," Keith laughs. "Lance would pull the same shit all the time...."

"Lance can't complain because he actually makes out with you-" she cuts off and looks down at the table in embarrassment.

Exhibit B.

Keith hasn't even hit the rebound yet, but he's already feeling lower than low, and he can't go 10 seconds without bringing Lance up, it seems.

* * *

_You still gonna go to the premiere?_

**idk**

**probably**

_Together?_

**i mean we have the tickets**

**no one else to give them to**

**he's not gonna like ask for them back**

**so i guess i'll go**

_That's on his bithday rughy_

**yeah**

_Well. Lemme know if yu bored help moving shut_

_*need help_

**thanks you're so considerate**

_Offer rescinded_

**no i need you to help i'm too emotionally compromised so you need to bring me all my stuff**

_Your chance is gone_

**why're you being so mean to me**

* * *

Keith does go to set the next day, because like Pidge said, Lotor is a crazy perfectionist and Keith really doesn't need more shit in his life. He gets chewed out by Lotor for Lin fucking up the flowers yesterday. Lin gets fired. Keith feels slightly bad, but not really, because Lin is kind of a pain in the ass. Jon ends up taking over for Lin's responsibilities, and frankly he does a much better job at it.

Keith has to really hand it to Acxa for her design on Lance's clothes. Modern high school romance, popular boy - she fucking nailed it. Keith knows she's one of Lotor's favorites, and honestly for good reason. Allura's been dying to work with her, but Lotor's always got her tied up, and it's one of the biggest reasons Keith doesn't always stick with Allura's movies. Lotor's direction is harsh, but _Acxa._

They're filming one of the only few scenes in the movie that make Keith vaguely uncomfortable - Lance and his friends shoving another boy down, at this moment. At the core of the script it's a film on homosexuality and the vicious stigmas and discrimination surrounding it, but some parts of it just. Hit a little too close to home.

* * *

_"Audition for it," Keith says excitedly. "Doooooo iiiiiiit. Do it. Do it do it do it-"_

_"Alright," Lance laughs, holding up his arms to shield himself from the pillow being beat repeatedly into his face. "Tell me about this amazing movie directed by Mr. Hard-Ass and why you want me to suffer."_

_Keith smacks him with the pillow again, for good measure. "There's this kid, and he's gay."_

_"Aw, man..."_

_"Just listen! He's a sophomore in high school, this is his easy year, so he's sort of stepping outside his boundaries a little and he has this awesome, supportive, straight best friend."_

_"What, they fall in love," Lance sighs. "Thought you didn't like seeing me kiss other actors."_

_"Would you just listen," Keith huffs, grinning, slamming the pillow down over Lance's face. Lance claws it out of Keith's hands and tosses it off the side of the bed. "They don't fall in love. But this first guy is sort of fooling around and somehow word gets out - only the straight guy is the one that everyone thinks is gay."_

_"Damn, lucky. Maybe if everyone knew I was bi when I was in high school, I'd have more-"_

__"Shut up. _So this straight boy has a really tough home life. He's mixed race, mom's a drunk abusive shit, dad's overworked and doesn't have time to do anything with this kid. And now he starts getting bullied at school by the popular guy for being gay and it's too much. Meanwhile the popular guy who's bullying him ends up eventually falling for our OG gay boy, and now he feels terrible about bullying this kid but it's not like he can stop because he's got rep to maintain._

_"And then things get dark - straight boy gets pushed to the point where he attacks the school. Gay boy dies, straight boy commits suicide, popular boy is left a changed man, ends with a shot of popular boy as a grown man speaking for LGBT rights."_

_Lance blows out a breath. "That sounds_ dumb. _Why can't we have a nice movie about two guys fighting aliens in space and falling in love, without making it a big LGBT breakthrough statement?"_

 _"It's so intricate, Lance," Keith pleads. "Narti wrote it - the script is so good. It's so detailed and realistic and_ I'm _working on it."_

_Lance laughs. "Fine. I'll audition. My complete lack of motivation will guarantee that I won't get the part, but okay, I'll fucking audition for you." He rolls his eyes and leans up to kiss Keith._

_Of course, Lance ends up getting the part._

* * *

Lance's other movie is a lot more to his tastes - and his acting is better with this one, as far as Keith's seen. They're done filming. Keith used to go watch while it was still going on. It's all about stars and astronauts and alien warfare - Lance has a stellar time with it. Keith would too, because god _damn_ the creative liberty you get when you're designing an alien planet. He could do a better job of it than Rolo, he's pretty damn sure.

But he's not actually working with that movie, which means he can't tag along with Lance and go into the editing room to hang with Hunk. Because Lance broke up with him. So he takes advantage of the moment to go back to Lance's apartment and gather up some of his shit. Acxa comes with him.

She's been here several times before - they just go straight to the closet, digging out every last article of clothing Keith owns. "You're going to be living in your own apartment, now, then?" she asks, refolding a shirt that's gotten sort of crooked from sitting in the closet too long.

Keith nods. "Eventually, yeah. I didn't want to kick you out so suddenly, though, so I'll just stay with Shiro until you can support your own apartment. You're nearly there, anyway."

Acxa shakes her head. "Don't bother Shiro. He already has his hands full, I think. Take your apartment."

Keith frowns, dumping his underwear into a box by the fistful. "You don't have a place to go, yet, so I don't want to take this from you for my own personal reasons."

"Well, if you're okay with letting me room with you, I have no problem with that. Like you said, I'm nearly there - it won't be for long." She drops a pair of jeans into her box and turns to look at Keith, her blue ombré dark in the twilight from the window.

Keith reaches back to flip the light switch on. "I'm cool with that, but are you sure that's okay with you?"

She smiles. "I'm okay."

Keith nods. Acxa would be a _very_ nice comfort to distract him from the aching loneliness he can't seem to ignore. He glances at a photo frame on his side of the bed, walking over and picking it up. It's an image of him with his birth family - he's six years old and his parents are smiling at the camera with the Christmas tree at Ghirardelli square in the background. He drops it into the box with his shirts and Acxa lays more down on top of it.

He takes the PlayStation in a little surge of impulsivity. He did buy it, after all - and technically Lance and he haven't really made any actual decisions about how they're going to split things, but he's not going to give up the fucking PlayStation, so he might as well.

He ends up writing a sticky note and leaving it on the dining table.

_Lance._

He stares at the name for a good forty seconds, Acxa graciously taking the moment to carry two boxes down to their - to his car.

_I stopped by to grab my clothes and some other stuff. I'll come again tomorrow after work._

_-Keith_

He realizes he doesn't really need to sign it, it's obvious it was him, but some things you do on principle because it's just wrong to do otherwise, no matter how fucking stupid it is. Like the way Keith eats two tic tacs at a time, or the way he brings Padme into the car with him the next day (Lance has left him a note, still isn't there in person) before remembering she can't come with him, or the way he still avoids cracks in the pavement at the age of 26.

Like the way he responds with invites to dinner parties with "we'll be there," before correcting it to "i'll be there," or the way he finds himself leaning in to kiss Lance and say "see you later," before catching himself and remembering it's not appropriate anymore. He disguises his action as him craning his neck to catch Padme's eye, the only thing left in Lance's apartment that ties him back there - if one doesn't count Lance and everything about him.

Lance trails the motion. His gaze settles on the cat, his mouth quirked downward, hinting at distraught. "You want to take her...?" he asks quietly.

Keith watches Padme paw at something fascinating on the floor. "You sure about that?"

Lance shrugs. "I get the TV and the motorcycle, so.... I think it's fair."

"You love her."

Lance snorts. "She loves you more. She kept crying at the door last night. Wouldn't let me sleep."

At that image, Keith's heart drops into a new low in the trench of sadness he's been living in recently. His shoulders droop down, and he lets them drag him to the floor, kneeling and calling out to Padme softly. She scratches at the wood for a second longer before coming to him, tail curved high. He gathers her into his arms and stands back up.

"I'll get her stuff," Lance mumbles, lifting himself off the wall he was leaning on and turning to walk back into the apartment. Keith takes Padme down the stairs to his car.

Pidge shoots him a smile. "Got everything?" It immediately slips into something closer to distaste as she eyes the cat. "Oh. Why'd you bring that?"

Keith sets her down on Pidge's lap in the passenger seat. "Be nice." The cat immediately hisses at Pidge and leaps off, hopping to the handbrake in between the two seats and then to the backseat.

Pidge just flinches and keeps their eyes shut until Padme is curled up in the backseat. "I hate that cat."

"I'm sure the feeling's mutual." Lance's voice startles Keith from behind as he carries a bag to Keith's car. "Here's all the food and shit."

Pidge is eyeing them carefully. "Uh, thanks," Keith stumbles out after a brief second of awkward quietness.

Lance sends him a smile, but his eyes are dead. It's a customary smile. The smile someone gives their child when she refuses to eat her food, or the smile someone uses for an important interview they're nervous for. "See you at work," Lance says casually, swiveling on his heel and walking back to the stairs that lead up to their - to his apartment.

Pidge whistles, staring sullenly at the dashboard. "Man..." she says quietly. Keith gets in silently and starts the car, backing out of the parking spot. "I'm sorry," she says as he turns out onto the road.

He throws one hand up in the air. "How many times are you going to say that?" Smacks it back down on the steering wheel.

Pidge doesn't say anything in response, just studies him. Padme mewls from the backseat. Keith turns on the radio after a while, drowning his agony in Taylor Swift, he guesses. It's only a couple measures in before Pidge is leaning forward and flipping through channels, snatches of advertisements briefly bursting from the speakers before being dialed away.

* * *

_Keith jumps at the sudden arms curling around him. Lance leans his head into the side of Keith's neck, pressing a soft kiss and then dragging his teeth along Keith's skin. "Jesus, Lance, you scared me," Keith huffs out, leaning back, the running water leeching warmth from his hands._

_"Changed the script," Lance says, nuzzling Keith's shoulder. Keith frowns, relishing the warmth of Lance's chest pressed to his back._

_"What?"_

_Lance pulls his chin back up to make eye contact with Keith through the mirror. "I talked to Narti and got her to change the script. It's still mostly the same, but instead of attacking the school, Hayton shoots himself. S'more realistic, based on the earlier character interactions. It doesn't work out between Jay and me because Jay basically figured out how I'm the reason Hayton's dead, and that doesn't fly with him. She kept that speech, though, so I've still gotta act all goody righteous MLK spokesman to the gays at the end."_

_Keith shuts off the tap and moves to the paper towel dispenser. Lance drags with him, feet heavy but arms relentless. "That's good. So you like it better now?"_

_Lance shrugs, pulling up Keith's shirt with the movement. "It's less pointlessly dramatic, like Lotor's stuff always is. Still not as good as the other one..."_

_Keith laughs. "Obviously."_

_Lance grins, withdrawing his arms just to push Keith against the wall, running his tongue around the back of Keith's teeth as they kiss. Keith huffs out against it, pulling his head to the side, breathless. "I've been in here way too long. Go take a piss, Lance," he laughs, voice husky._

_Lance hums. "Fair enough." Keith pulls away when Lance still refuses to move, extricating himself from the small space between wall and boyfriend's chest, fighting a smile and shaking his head as he walks out of the bathroom._

_"Keith," Lotor calls as Keith returns to set where Jay is on camera with Hayton. "Hospital scene two weeks from now. Get to it."_

_Keith nods. For the suicide. Cool._

* * *

"So, did you guys talk about it yet?"

Keith burns himself with his coffee, slamming the cup down as he chokes and grabbing a handful of napkins to mop up the burning liquid.

"Sorry," Pidge winces. "But did you?"

"No..."

Pidge raises an eyebrow. "Two weeks, all your stuff is split, you've moved in with Acxa, you had every opportunity to sit down and have a long heart-to-heart while I graciously stayed in the car when we were bringing your shit over, and you didn't even take said opportunity."

"No." Keith takes another tentative sip of his coffee.

"Have you been texting?"

"No," he says again, voice quiet.

Pidge lets out an exasperated noise, in between a sigh and a groan, very unimpressed. "Are you even friends?"

"I don't know," he admits.

"Okay, well, you know you cant go on like this without at least figuring out what's wrong, right?"

Keith shrugs, nonchalant. "Yeah," he says easily. Can't he, though?

"You know, this is a very boring conversation, when you answer like that."

"Okay."

"Text him."

"No."

"Call him."

"No."

"Drive over to the apartment and sit down and chat."

"No."

"It's been two weeks."

"It's been thirteen days."

Pidge raises an eyebrow. "You have to work it out before it becomes another thing you just took too long to do, like that fucking Magic Tree House collection you have now."

Keith scowls. "What do you know about my Magic Tree House collection? Maybe I bought every one of those from a library sale."

"You haven't touched them for years."

"Again, you don't know that."

"I do, actually, because there's a dead tarantula I put there and if you had opened the box I would have heard about it."

"Pidge, what the _fuck,_ " Keith breathes softly.

Pidge shrugs. "It was for April fools. And this is not about your Magic Tree House collection. This is about you working things out with Lance."

Keith rolls his head over to the side, searching the warm brown collage on the wall for answers. The images of coffee beans and steam provide him with nothing. "He was set on it. I don't think we're getting back together."

Pidge shakes her head. "No, I don't think so, either. But you can't leave this forever."

"Can't I?" Keith challenges, his tone testy.

"No, you can't."

Keith sighs, long and overdramatic. "Fine. I will."

"Do it right now," Pidge says.

Keith flicks and annoyed glance her way. "What, you want me to call him to this Starbucks, right now?"

"No, text him." The intent in her gaze is unwavering.

He slumps forward as he slides out his phone.

**hey when can we talk**

"Happy?"

Pidge nods, watching as the grey bubble with the three dots pops up.

* * *

The premiere for Lance's movie is on his birthday. Keith doesn't know if they planned it like that, or what, because he is the lead - but it's mid-July and the premiere is in a week and Keith is.... not sure what he's going to do. The realization hits him suddenly while he's brushing his teeth and Acxa is slumbering away, dead to the world.

An RSVP is like a binding contract in the way it works. You respond with a plus one and the host counts you as a guest while they're preparing - has enough food for you, enough plates for you, enough water for you, and when you don't show up it's a big fuck you to all of that as well as the host who's expecting Lance's plus one. Keith could be hospitalized and he'd probably still try to find a way to this premiere because he fucking said he would so he will. But he doesn't know what the fuck he's going to do once he's there because all his friends are really Lance's friends - Allura'll be too busy to entertain him the whole knight - Ezor's cool but she's not as close with Keith, also she's Nyma's good friend.

So, wow.

"It's Sunday." Acxa's groan jars him from his thoughts. He sees her through the mirror - sitting up in bed in the room across the hall. She brings one hand up to rub at her eye before lifting the other to join it in a stretch. "Go to sleep."

"I'm meeting Lance," Keith attempts to say with the toothbrush in his mouth.

"Who?"

"Lance."

He can see Acxa's confused face as she struggles to get her mind working again. Realization dawns on her features, accompanied with sheepishness and a drawn out "ohhhhhhhhhhh." Her next words are through a yawn, stretched into each other and hard to discern. "Isn't that in the afternoon?"

Keith spits. "We're eating lunch together."

"Mm. Right." Keith allows himself a small chuckle - just a sharp exhale through his nose, before twisting the water on and drawing it to his mouth so he can rinse.

He's in the middle of breakfast when Acxa comes to the hallway, squinting in the light. "You're having lunch at 6 AM?"

Keith shakes his head, swallowing the strawberry. "No, no, I'm just... can't hurt to be prepared."

"True," Acxa says absently, turning and heading back to her room.

She ends up falling asleep, waking up sharp and alert at seven like every other usual day. The first thing she does is come to the door again, so she can level a critical eye at Keith on Twitter on his phone. "You are so stupid," she says, the words punctuated with huffs of disbelief.

Keith looks up, mildly offended. "What?"

"You are so-" she laughs, genuine amusement, tipping her head forward and to the left to emphasize her next words. "You're hung up. Really bad. This is probably the kind of obsessiveness..." her eyebrows draw up in sympathy. "I'm sorry, Keith."

Keith lets out a long breath, leaning back into the sofa. "I couldn't sleep, okay?"

Acxa shrugs, moving around in the kitchen. "I figured." Pours water in her kettle and sets it to boil. Stretches up to swing open the cabinet and withdraw the mint tea she only has when she's nervous.

"Something on your mind?" Keith asks after a few minutes of silence.

"You know Ezor?"

Keith nods. "Yeah, your girlfriend."

Acxa shoots him a half pouty, half exasperated look, and he snorts. "She's not. I told you, god. But she invited me to the premiere."

Keith's eyes drift back down to his Twitter. "That's kind of late?"

"It _is_ kind of late."

"So, what?"

"I said yes."

"That's great." He's about to say _you can keep me company,_ but then he remembers that if Ezor invited her she's obligated to spend time with Ezor - and that means he's still going to be... very, very bored. "She's nice."

"I can't wait to see the movie."

Keith considers this. It's an obvious question, worded in a way so that Keith knows this is his chance to answer before she asks it directly and he has no choice. He does want to see the movie. He does. He listened to Lance talk about it for months and months - it looks like it's going to be a big hit, considering how much of a following their marketing team has garnered. And he _is_ long past getting jealous over Lance kissing actresses on screen - he hasn't for years, it's just _work_ anyway - he makes comments on it sometimes but it really hasn't been an issue since when they first started dating - which is why he _definitely_ didn't deserve it when Lance said _thought you didn't like seeing me kiss other actors_ \- because, well, obviously he's not going to enjoy it, but he's not _that_ petty-

"Are you looking forward to it at all?" And that's it, he's waited too long. He exits out of Twitter and opens Instagram instead.

"Yeah, it's going to be a good movie," he says. And it is.

"But...?"

Keith twists and tips his head back over the armrest, dragging out a long sigh. " _But_ I'm not looking forward to having no one to interact with for the whole night. Congratulations on scoring Ezor as a date, though."

"I really don't think it's a date."

"When someone asks you to an event, it's as a date."

"So Lance is your date?"

"When someone who didn't break up with you the day after you were planning to propose to them after dating for four years asks you to an event, it's as a date."

Acxa's silent, the bubbling water softening the uneasy quiet. "I'm sorry. I take it back."

Keith rereads the caption on Pidge's Instagram post from 3 AM this morning one more time before deciding to just shut off his phone. He claps it down over his chest and stares at the ceiling.

"When are you going?"

"Now, I think," Keith decides. "I can't wait around anymore." He swings his feet of the sofa and stands, fixing his shirt and grabbing a light jacket from the floor near the side table. "Stop knocking my shit off the table?"

Acxa frowns, pouring tea into a cup. "It's not a closet."

"You're as bad as Padme."

"You're ridiculously unorganized."

"Come here, Padme," Keith sings, holding his arms out to where the cat blinks at him sleepily, unamused. "Be my new roommate."

"Maybe you should buy a coat rack."

"I already have a table." Padme gives him an unimpressed meow at that, for some reason. Keith throws his arms in the air. "Unbelievable. Everyone is against me."

Acxa laughs. "Good luck," she says, turning back to give the kettle attention as she moves it to the sink. Keith slips on his shoes and heads out the door.

* * *

Lance is, to Keith's sickening surprise, already at Starbucks when he gets there. Pidge is also there, _also_ to his sickening surprise. They're sitting across from each other, Pidge talking animatedly as Lance sips coffee and stares out the window.

It bugs Keith for some reason. From the looks of it, they're in some heavy discussion, and he knew Pidge and Lance were friends but he sort of felt like Starbucks was a _Pidge and him_ thing. Which is dumb, loads of people come chat at Starbucks. And he's not offended, or jealous, or any of that. But he does wonder what they're talking about.

He carefully keeps his back to them while he waits in line, choosing a seat farthest from them and near the side entrance. Gets out his tablet and sketches concepts for the hospital scene. The other reason Keith works with Lotor instead of just Allura is because Lotor has this thing for uniqueness - he avoids using real life settings whenever he can, which means Keith gets paid more.

At the same time though, it means Keith finds himself sitting at Starbucks sketching out a hospital scene while his mind is hyper-focused on two people across the shop and it's - he's trying to work but he's still here a good five hours early - and he doesn't know how or when but he starts sketching the scene, starts sketching Pidge and Lance across from each other at the table near the window.

Pidge has this expression on her face nigh identical to the one she was wearing back while she was urging Keith to message Lance. Lance looks calm but Keith can read the twist of his eyebrows upward even from here, and it's the sign of a tornado of emotions that he's dissociating from hard. Keith distracts himself and passes the time tracing his pen over the purse of Lance's lips over his coffee, his fingers playing with the worn edge of a shitty paper napkin, his ankles hooked around the legs of the chair underneath him, the stroke of his jawline that aligns with the slope of his cup. And when he's done with that it's the people around them - college students at the table behind Pidge, the middle aged woman Keith's pretty sure he's seen before on Lance's left.

By the time it's noon he's lined the whole thing and added his flat colors.

Pidge leaves. Keith watches as Lance sits there alone for a moment longer, and then stands, dropping his cup into the trash can and strolling over so he's back in the line. He glances back at the door once, twice, orders, makes his way back to his table, and still Keith doesn't move, just watches him. Lance notices him when he goes to pick up his order, and the reaction is immediate - a little start, a flicker of the eyes to the entrance behind Keith. Keith straightens and lays his tablet pen down on the side, drawing up another hand to wave robotically. Lance flashes him a smile and picks up his drink, coming over and taking a seat across from him.

"Hey." Standard greeting. Keith feels like it should be awkward, but, like always, Lance diffuses the tension with his easy charm, raising his drink to take a sip. It's... pineapple black tea? Probably. Keith doesn't like that one.

"Hey," Keith says, raising his tone up and then back down, like... he's admitting something.

"Look, I'm just going to jump right into it, okay?" Lance leans back, reaching up to pull a hand through his short hair. "I don't... I'm not mad at you, I don't hate you, none of that."

Keith raises his eyebrows. "I know." He actually _didn't_ know, but admitting that he thought Lance wanted nothing to do with him means admitting he made this more dramatic than it apparently actually is. And he doesn't want to do that. It's not going to make this any easier.

"But I'm... It was getting to this point where I couldn't keep up. Okay? Like... Like I just. I kept finding myself enjoying the time I spent with friends more than the time I spent going out with you, and every time we fought, the way I'd feel - it was just really really fucking _shitty_ , Keith. I felt like the fucking scum of the Earth whenever I fought with you. And then I'd go talk to someone else and I'd feel like I'm not doing everything wrong, for once, and it was just such a good feeling - and I found myself actively wanting to talk to someone like Ezor or Hunk more than to you and I - I'm sorry, but it wasn't healthy for me so I made a decision about it."

Lance takes a breath. It's like he's rehearsed this.

"And I do miss you, man, I do. The apartment feels broken, like half of it is missing, because half of it _is_ missing, but it feels terrible. But you've changed a lot from when we first started dating, _I've_ changed a lot from when we first started dating, and I know it was always sort of our pride that we were so different but still able to make it work so well but it's... not working so well. It _wasn't_ working so well. I'm sorry." Everyone keeps _fucking_ saying that they're sorry.

"Lance," Keith scoffs, because he can't help it - and immediately he sees the blow in Lance's expression, but he _can't help it -_ "You sound like... like a high school _health_ teacher. We always _had_ difficulties and you suddenly convinced yourself we had an unhealthy relationship? Lance, everyone has differences! It's not unhealthy to have to deal with them every once in a while-"

 _"Stop."_ Lance sips his drink again. "Don't... Look, you wanted to know why we broke up, and this is why."

"Wh- this is so sudden, though!"

"Stop yelling." Keith's _not_ yelling.

"I'm not yelling. When did you even have all these epiphanies?"

"Months ago," Lance snaps.

"You're overreacting - if you miss me that much-"

 _"Keith."_ And Keith shuts his mouth because Lance's voice is deadly for a brief moment. "I'm just being frank with you. I miss you, but I don't want to get back together with you. I'm _just being frank with you._ So stop _yelling._ "

"I'm not fucking yelling."

"Yes, you are."

"I still don't see how you can suddenly up and decide that something that's been good for four years is suddenly toxic-"

"I didn't _decide_ anything, okay? Im just-"

"You and I have fought because that's just what happens when you date someone you used to hate, but we're not _unheal-"_

"I'm just going with what I feel is best, and if I don't feel like we're right for each other, then how can you insist that we are?"

"Stop interrupting me-"

"People have to want to be in a relationship, Keith. You can't just think of only yourself and force them to do something they don't want to do."

Keith stops short. Becuase Shiros's told him this many many times, growing up. And he's worked at it. And he thought he fixed it. Shiro stopped mentioning it, anyway, and - and he didn't - this isn't supposed to be a problem for him, especially not now, years since Shiro last talked to Keith about it.

"Look-" Lance cuts himself off, dropping his head into his hand. Keith catches a glimpse of moist blue eyes before they're hidden behind his knuckles. "I'll. I'll see you at the premiere, okay? You're still coming to that, right?"

"Yeah," Keith answers bluntly. He _gets_ it, now. He _gets_ Lance's reasoning. All too well. He still thinks he's overreacting, and that this maybe blew up too big when it wasn't really a major issue the way Lance is making it out to be - but it's not... It's not completely unfounded.

"I just... If there are so many things about my personality that don't suit you, and there are so many things about yours that don't suit me, we can't go on. You know?" Lance stands. "I'll... Well, I'd pick you up, but you have the car, so..."

"I'll pick you up," Keith mumbles, rolling with the cue with surprising ease compared to the way his stomach feels like it's taking an amusement park ride without him. He's Lance's plus one, anyway.

"Okay. See you in a week."

A week?

Lance turns and walks past Keith, out the side entrance behind him. Keith's eyes travel down to his tablet - he turns the screen on and stares at Lance and Pidge across from each other at the table.

It is a week, isn't it. Right. He remembers thinking about that this morning.

* * *

**what the fuck am i supposed to get him for his birthday**

_Who?_

**lance**

_When is it?_

**two days**

_On the day of the premiere?_

**well the premiere sure is in two days isn't it**

_Uhm. Chocolate?_

**well i was asking in the hopes that you would maybe come up with something better than chocolate**

**why don't you come out here so i can actually see and you can go back and spend another thirty minutes in there**

**instead of texting me**

_You texted me first._

**COME OUT**

Acxa starts typing, and then disappears; a few seconds later she's weaving her way out through the fitting room lines, wearing a deep blue gown that really does flatter her.

"That one," Keith says.

"You've only seen three so far," she says, her eyebrows drawn up skeptically.

"This is definitely the best one," he declares. "Calling it now."

Acxa frowns. "Ezor's favorite color is orange..."

Keith shakes his head. "This looks good. What is she wearing, anyway?"

Acxa looks down at the dress. "I haven't opened any of her messages since she asked me to the premiere."

...

_Wow._

Keith gives her a critical look.

"Don't look at me like that - I didn't have time..." Annoyance crosses her face.

"Acxa..." Keith laughs, dragging one hand over the side of his face. "This one is fine, trust me. Let's go... find some chocolate, I guess."

Acxa frowns once again, turning over her shoulder to assess her figure from the back.

"It's _fine..._ "

"Okay," Acxa says. "I'll get this one."

Keith leans back in the chair, leg bouncing up and down in impatience.

"Excuse me? Can I sit here?" Keith glances over to the side where a kid - six years old, or eight, or something - is standing, fingering the edge of his Groot shirt.

"Yeah," Keith responds tiredly, rising to his feet to pace around while Acxa changes out of the gown and gets back.

* * *

Lance is waiting, sitting on the steps that lead up to his apartment when Keith rolls into the parking lot. He stands, adjusting his suit - tailored fit to his body, dark purple tie - and sends Keith a quirk of a smile. Keith gets out and opens the door for Lance, but he's stiff a he does it. He doesn't know how to feel.

"Happy birthday," he says as he seats himself back in the driver's seat, reaching back and bringing the box of chocolates forward.

Lance grins. "Thanks," he says, untying the ribbon as soon as Keith starts the ignition. Imagine dragons starts up on the radio again. Lance pops one into his mouth. "These are good," he says appreciatively.

Keith nods. "Glad you like them."

"Want one?"

Keith drops his mouth open without realizing - Lance hesitates, but then he puts one in Keith's mouth like things are still normal.

And Keith can already tell it's going to be a long night.

The movie is really good, and Lance is phenomenal as ever - but then they get to the part in the script that made Keith not want to watch, the long-ass love-letter-speech-monologue Lance gives. Becuase Lance specifically admitted he delivers this line best when he's thinking of Keith. And his acting is phenomenal as ever. And it sends Keith's heart careening into this sad achy crevice in his chest as he refrains from closing his eyes or looking away from the screen.

And his escape from said sad achy crevice is apparently alcohol, which is how he finds himself on his sixth glass of wine at Nyma's place, 3 am, when Acxa is firmly wrestling away his glass and shoving water into his hands, when Lance is thanking Nyma and saying he's going now, when Lance and he are walking out to the car and Lance is insisting he should drive because he's only had half as much wine.

Keith holds his alcohol better than Lance, though, _way_ better than Lance, so they end up having a fight about it, flushed cheeks and loud voices - but it's brief, because Keith catches Acxa watching them in concern and backs off. She's having a good time. He doesn't need her to be worried over his problems.

Still, Keith holds his alcohol better than Lance, who's already always so absent-minded, and he ends up bringing Keith to his apartment.

"Shit," Lance says, pausing out in the parking lot as Keith watches him curiously. "I, uh... I didn't-" he winces. "It's late... Do you want me to take you home?"

"I can drive home," Keith says.

Lance is skeptical. "Look, I'm not letting you drive right now, you can stop with that."

"I'm not even _inebriated."_

"You level of judgement is always astoundingly low, with alcohol it's even lower. I'm not letting you drive home."

Keith huffs. "What, where am I gonna stay, then?"

Lance lowers his eyes, staring at the keys in his hand. He swings them around his pointer finger. "Come on up, I guess. You can stay the night."

And it's an odd request to consider, because he's never been asked to spend the night. Not since before they started dating.

Keith follows him up. Lance ends up using the same keyring because Keith still has a key to the apartment - because Lance never asked for it back and Keith forgot to give it back - he passes it to Keith as they enter, Keith closing the door behind him as he pockets it. And Lance is right - the apartment _does_ look broken, with half of its familiar layout just _gone._

They go straight to the bed, and Keith takes his shirt off - it's just one of the many things he has done and is about to do that he really shouldn't do. But he does, either because he forgets or because his judgment is a little blunted.

One of these things is watching Lance carefully, keeping up the intense eye contact as Lance's eyes trail down Keith's torso and then back up to his face. One of them is letting himself freely appreciate the sight he's missed when Lance slips his own suit off, then the shirt, sliding them onto a single hanger and leaving them on the hook over the closet door. One of them is finding himself disappointed when Lance disappears into the bathroom to change out of his pants.

One of them is noticing the way Lance's eyes are drawn to Keith's lips as they both kneel on either side of the bed and taking it as a sign. Taking it as the go ahead to another one of these things - the go ahead to grab Lance's face and bring it down so their mouths are crashing into each other for the first time in _weeks._

And that's the tipping point.

He slides his tongue in, hungry, aching, missing this - missing the careful danger of jaws biting and lips sliding and teeth clashing. And the thing is, Lance _responds._ Hesitant, slowly, but he does - opens his mouth and circles his tongue around Keith's and brings a hand up to Keith's waist.

It gets Keith heady. The concept of delayed gratification is that one learns to appreciate an outcome more when they have to work for it. And Lance's touch on his skin after weeks is - is - something so _good_ , so _wanted_ and so _loved..._

Keith pushes him down into the sheets, kissing roughly on his mouth, pinning one arm down at the wrist with his right hand and supporting himself above Lance with his left hand. _This_ is the kind of kissing that incinerates Keith's chapstick in its heat. The kind that sends euphoria into his brain. His tongue deep near the back of Lance's mouth, playing, swirling. He breaks it off to lead kisses across Lance's jaw, reveling in the shivers he sends across the body under him as he moves to the soft spot right under Lance's jawbone. He grinds his hips down and drags them up as he kisses, because he _missed_ this and there's not a single fucking doubt about where this is heading now but god Keith is going to make it fucking _worth it._

"Keith," Lance gasps quietly.

"Hm."

Lance inhales sharply as Keith responds with another slow drag against Lance's hips. Then: "Keith, I don't-"

And Keith doesn't want to hear it. Doesn't want to talk. Because every time they talk they fight and he wants to just _be,_ just enjoy the moment and leave everything screwy about their relationship behind and just _be._ So he leans up and swallows Lance's words up in another kiss, hand trailing down to stroke against the crotch of Lance's sweatpants.

Keith pulls back just an inch, enough to open his eyes and see Lance slowly open his, pupils blown wide and eyebrows drawn up and cheeks flushed bright. "Do you want this?" he asks, tilting his head, meeting Lance's gaze with intensity, his voice soft but unwavering.

And there's hesitation there that has Keith's high-riding emotions sinking just a bit, and then a light nod, eyes sliding up to the ceiling, another nod, this one more pronounced. Lance closes his eyes. "Yeah," he rasps, and it's aching - longing - pleading - and it's all Keith needs to push down against Lance's lips and palm up against his dick, Lance's slight groan whisked away into their kiss.

He goes right for it - wastes no time on the foreplay they've enjoyed in the past. Palms Lance's dick one more time before hooking his fingers over the waistband and pulling Lance's pants and underwear down like he has so many times before. He follows it down, pressing brief kisses across Lance's torso and his thighs, and then slips out of his own slacks and underwear and reaches to the side table for the lube while Lance curls his legs up on either side of Keith.

Lance is watching him with hazy eyes as Keith spreads the lube between thumb and forefinger, gaze flickering up to meet Lance's steady eyes.

"I missed you," Keith says, leaning forward again as he carefully slips one finger inside Lance, lips coming down over the hollow of Lance's throat as Lance tenses and relaxes two or three times. He kisses in a line down to the left until he stops at one spot, sucking hard on Lance's tan skin as he circles his finger around and slowly presses another one in.

"Hnnn-" Lance's back arches up against Keith's fingers as he pumps them in and out, stretching him. "Keith-"

Keith reaches up with his other hand to stroke a hand through Lance's hair. It calms him slightly, the muscles in his neck relaxing as Keith drags his lips down lower, leaving behind one reddening bruise and starting on another. He curls his fingers in Lance's ass, finding his prostrate on pure muscle memory, and Lance tenses again, keening as he tips his head back and grabs at the sheets. He strokes his hand through Lance's hair again.

_"Keith-"_

Keith pulls his fingers out, reaching for the lube again, spreading it over his fingers and then over the shaft of his dick, sighing at the sensations curling through his stomach. "What?" He opens his eyes, meeting Lance's gaze as he preps himself.

Lance doesn't say anything, just watches Keith for a moment, eyebrows still drawn up in tension, before closing his eyes and pushing his chin forward. Keith leans down to kiss him again, lining himself up with Lance.

"I missed you too," Lance whispers into the space between them. Keith smiles and kisses the corner of Lance's mouth as he pushes in, overwhelmed for a brief moment in the tight warmth of Lance all around him. Then he moves, pulling back and in again, slowly at first. It builds into thrusts, gasps, Keith curling his hands around Lance's back, pressing Lance's sternum down to keep him from lifting off the bed. Keith drags his teeth over Lance's collarbone, circles his nipple with his fingers - does fucking _everything_ he hasn't had a chance to do in the last few weeks.

The gasps come out stronger, faster, breathier as Keith pulls Lance with him closer and closer to tipping, the both of them covered in a sheen of sweat.

"Fuck, _Keith,_ " Lance moans, almost cries out loud - grips Keith's back desperately to try to ground himself as Keith goes harder, going for deeper rather than faster because he knows it works Lance better.

"Hmm," Keith hums into Lance's skin, trapping Lance's earlobe between his teeth and pulling at it. Lance whimpers, and he's trembling now as Keith thrusts hard into him. "Lance..." He's close. He's close. He's close. He trails one hand down to wrap around Lance's dick, and Lance's fingers curl and dig into the ridges of muscle in Keith's back.

_"Keith, fuck, fuck-"_

"Come on," Keith urges, voice gravelly. And then Lance is tensing up under him, legs shaking as they curl up on either side to trap Keith there. Keith pulls out right as they both come, concentrated heat rocking through Keith's body as he drops and buries his face against Lance's neck, mouth pulling open and eyes pinched shut desperately to ride it out. It's just the sound of gasping, then, as they both catch their breath, warmth splattered over them, dirtying the sheets, Lance still clucthing at Keith's back. He whimpers, squeezing Keith to him tightly.

Keith props himself up on his elbows after a minute. There's the shine of a single tear in the corner of Lance's eye - his eyebrows are still frowning slightly, but Keith doesn't dwell on it. He thumbs at the side of Lance's face, who flinches as Keith wipes away the moisture. He leans his head down and kisses him again, firm, sweet. And the first thing that comes to his mind is _"I love you,"_ but he can't say that - so. So instead, he rolls off of Lance to the side, turning his head to kiss Lance's cheek and whisper.

"You mean everything to me."

* * *

**Missed Calls:** 8

_Keith? Where are you?_

_The car isn't here. Is Lance with you? Were you driving? Are you okay?_

_Do you need help? Should I come find you?_

_Keith, please answer. I'm worried._

_Keith, the sun is rising - where are you?_

_Are you okay?_

_I didn't sleep much - please text back when you see this._

_I hope you're not in trouble._

-

_Hey dude acxa s wrried about you_

_She sasyd you were dreinking man thas not, ware you okay_

_fuck man iats seven am ive stayed up all night can you just tee is youre okay_

* * *

Keith wakes up alone, cold, with a headache and the urge to throw up, entirely separate from the mild hangover he's nursing.

He fucked up.


	2. sand

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 20k worth of words? posted by me in the same day?
> 
> i know, crazy, right? _*shoves unfinished homework under the bed*_

Diffusion theory explains how major changes cannot be accomplished over short periods of time. Human beings are creatures of habit and maybe this is why when Keith hesitantly comes out of the bedroom, Lance is sipping orange juice and there's Imagine Dragons playing softly from the radio. Maybe this is why a second glass of orange juice awaits Keith on the table, why Lance greets him with a teeny tiny smile and a _hey._

"Hey," Keith mutters, crossing his arms and leaning against the doorframe on his right. "..." He feels like he should say something, but he can't for the life of him think of a single coherent thought to convey how he's feeling.

Lance nods, gesturing his chin toward the glass of orange juice. "Juice."

He turns his head and watches the sunlight slant against the plants in the balcony as Keith pulls out a chair and picks up his juice. The first sip is a little unpleasantly cold as his mouth gets used to it. Because diffusion theory. Because adaptability presents itself as permanent or long lasting changes in the body and the mind. Because it takes Keith a minute to get used to the cold orange juice and if he were having scrambled eggs it would take him longer, with a cold mouth, to get used to the heat.

Because this feels like nothing is different. Like they didn't break up just a few weeks ago.

Except there's an added element of _silence-_ they're not _talking,_ they barely talked last night and now Lance is just lazily sipping his juice while staring at the leaves outside waving in the breeze.

"The movie was good," Keith says. "Really good."

"Told you," Lance says, grin in his voice but not on his face when he turns to look back at Keith.

Keith nods. "It was intense. I still think you deserve a stunt-double."

Lance shrugs. "Like I said. Tom cruise is my idol."

"I still could have done better with the Rarikor designs," Keith frowns.

"Still agree," Lance says. A pause. "We heading to work together or something...?"

It's a clear message, implicit - he's asking Keith to leave. "Actually, I want to talk," Keith says.

Lance raises his eyebrows. "Well, okay."

"I'm sorry. About... Last night."

He seems to have trouble coming up with a definite answer to that. "Sorry about... what specifically?"

"For..." Ah, hell. "Forcing myself onto you. Shouldn't have done that." Since they're not dating anymore. Lance has mentioned this before - this tendency Keith has to sometimes pull Lance wordlessly in a certain direction whether he wants to or not. Maybe if he recognizes that...

"I said I wanted to, didn't I?"

... "I guess? It wasn't exactly an explicit yes."

"I think it was a pretty explicit yes," Lance says.

"So... are we back-"

" _No._ "

"No?"

"I don't regret yesterday, alright? So you don't have to either. But that doesn't mean I've changed my mind," Lance says. He's staring straight at the table, his voice soft, fingers drumming on the side of his orange glass - like, half of his tells, and Keith knows he's pushing back on anxiety hard right now. But Keith's sort of in the dark half the time as a result, and he almost wishes Lance would break down just so he can _hear_ everything, straight from his ex's mouth.

He doesn't totally get why Lance is still shutting him out so much. "Alright." Lance's shoulders sigh down a little as he lets out a breath Keith can't hear. "I'll see you at work." The phrase pops up in his mind - _I love you,_ but regardless of whatever happened yesterday, it's still not appropriate. So he just gets his keys from the drawer in the kitchen, rinses out his glass of orange juice, grabs his jacket, and leaves.

And that's the first time they have sex... not as a couple.

* * *

The first time they had sex _as_ a couple was Lance's birthday. It was a lot like last night, little words, silently intense. Keith thinks Lance was a lot more vocal, despite being null in conversation. They weren't living together yet. It was a lot like last night in that Keith definitely was doing this thing again - this tendency Keith has... he was on a one-way road that night, and to this day he's not entirely sure how well it might have gone if Lance had said _no._

He didn't complain. Not once did he give any sign that it was anything less than a close, treasured secret that they kept sharing with stolen glances across the set of the movie they were working together at the time. It took him a good few hours to get out of bed that morning, and that's the first time Keith made breakfast in Lance's apartment. It's the first time he did laundry in Lances apartment, vacuumed Lance's apartment, because apparently Lance has a strict no breakfast in bed policy and while he didn't deny the pampering, he did make Keith follow through with the clean up.

Such a _princess,_ honestly.

He finds out months later that that birthday was the first time Lance had sex with a boy. He takes the news with confusion, mostly, unsure because it's not like he can go back to the moment and be gentler, but he understands now why they ended up reshooting every stunt scene they filmed the day after.

But now their stolen glances across the set are nothing like that first time. They're... cold, distant, like something you're trying to reach but can't. Distracted. Unclear. Keith keeps catching his eye like they're both watching each other, trying to read each other. They're trying to figure out where they stand.

Keith doesn't really know.

* * *

_"One thing I notice about you," Lance murmurs in his ear as Keith snoozes next to him, "is that every time we film a kissing scene, we come home and do_ this. _"_

_Keith opens his eyes a little bit, staring into the soft darkness, the lava lamp bubbling gently in the corner. "This?"_

_"Mhmm." Lance brushes Keith's hair back with a light finger. "_ This. _"_

_Keith drags himself out of the lethargy that shrouds his muscles and turns, so he's facing Lance and staring into his dark eyes._

_"This thing where we come home and you can't seem to controoool yourseeeelf."_

_Keith squints. He knows what Lance is getting at. "I'm not jealous-"_

_Lance laughs, quietly enough that it washes in a haze over the small bubble of space between them but doesn't drift any farther. "It's cute. And I'm not saying I don't enjoy it." His lips twist into a smirk._

_Keith closes his eyes again, exhausted. He feels Lance shift forward, and then the soft press of his lips to Keith's nose. And then arms. Wrapping around him and drawing him closer into Lance's warmth._

_And he's right - they_ do _do this. It's not actually an uncommon occurrence. Which is why Keith should_ know _how to control himself, how to not act like a jealous bastard no matter how hard he tries to logic his way out of being jealous - but, at the same time - he can't really_ help _it. He has abandonment issues, as Pidge says._

 _More than that, Keith should know that he_ needs _to control himself. Should notice how he's too rough sometimes, too controlling, how his fingers dig too deep in Lance's sensitive skin. Should notice that Lance bruises as easy as a peach but he doesn't. He doesn't notice any of that because Lance wears long-sleeve t-shirts the next day, follows up with soft kisses to the temples and the nose and the mouth, follows up with light hugs and cuddling in four blanket layers._

_Keith should notice that not all of the reddish brown patches on Lance's skin are makeup. Should notice that he's unknowingly hurting someone he loves and one day it's going to hurt him back._

_But instead he's just dealing with shoving sweaty long-sleeve t-shirts into the washing machine and Lance settling into four blankets while they marathon Lord of the Rings despite the fact that summer is approaching and it's a hundred ten degrees outside._

_Because Keith can't controoool himseeeelf._

* * *

Lance parked next to him.

He wants this to be clear. He got there first - but Lance parked next to him.

And Lance usually gets off later than Keith, or he stays behind talking with people later than Keith, and Keith usually stays behind with Lance but he doesn't need to do that anymore. So he's been going home before Lance leaves. So it makes sense why he wouldn't expect Lance to be around here. So it makes sense why he takes the moment to step up to the motorcycle and let the grips roll back into his palm, snug as they always should be. Why he runs one hand along the curves of the seat, lets his eyes linger on the deep red shine of its paint. He goddamn _misses_ this bike.

"Wanna go for a ride?"

He spins around to see Lance leaning against his car, eyeing Keith's hands on the grips. Keith doesn't let go. "I thought you were back there..."

Lance nods. "I was. Wanna go for a ride or not?"

"I-" well, if he's _asking..._ "yes..?"

"Cool." Lance grins. He nods at the helmet. "I'll let you drive."

Keith's eyes trail back to the helmet. Something trills in his heart. His own is at home. "You... why..? Are you sure about thi..."

"Look, Keith," Lance sighs. "I'm trying my hardest not to end up awkward and hateful of each other. I'm trying to just - just be friends with you. Yeah?"

Keith contemplates the helmet in silence. "Yeah." He grabs it, swinging it up over his head and fitting it down. Throws one leg over the seat, ignores the pumping of his heart, the way it stutters and speeds up all at once as Lance straddles the seat behind him and nudges up against his back. He takes a deep breath as Lance hands him the keys, preparing himself for the rush.

He fucking loves motorcycles.

"We can go to the beach," Lance says. "The private one that's still booked out for our gig. No one will be there at this hour."

"Mm, I don't know," Keith says playfully, fitting the key in. "I worked really hard on those sets."

"You're a fucking natural at it. Let's just go."

Keith grins, starting the ignition.

It takes some difficulty to get the bike past the soft sand and over to the edge of where the water laps against the edge of the earth, but they manage. They've done this many times before - hell, they bought this specific bike just because of its stability so they could ride it around on the beach. And goddamn has Keith missed the feeling.

"Stop stalling," Lance hisses in his ear. His warmth presses into Keith from behind, locking him with the tightly wrapped arms. Lance leans his head on the back of Keith's shoulders, enough that Keith can feel the stiff press of his cheek and know he's smiling.

Keith breathes in.

Out.

And goes loose. Lets the acceleration build and build and build until they're going fast enough that wind and salt spray and raining sand all meld into an onslaught of blue and black. The moon is hidden by clouds and the only lighting comes from reflections in the sky - light pollution - it's never pitch dark here. And the light on the motorcycle, that too.

Lance lets out a whoop of pure exhilaration - Keith joins in, "yes!" Grinning as wind whips around his body, sand flies up to clatter briefly against the helmet. Breathes in the scent of Lance as he speeds up even more, until they're nearing the end of the reserved stretch of beach and Keith has to slow.

Lance laughs as the rush fades and the inertia of slowing down leans their bodies slightly forward. Wraps his arms tightly around Keith's waist and nuzzles into the crook of his neck. Breathes out, panting from the thrill, tickling the hair against Keith's neck. He's turning the bike around when it stops moving and tips over, slow enough that he has ample time to spring away from the crash but fast enough that they both fall on their side and it feels like the sand is tearing through his skin.

He gasps in a breath, staring at the sand flying through the air as the wheels of the tipped bike keep spinning, and flops onto his back, breathing hard and staring up at the starry sky. Shit.

Lance starts laughing.

Keith scowls through the dull pain of where he twisted his leg weird in the fall. "Something funny?"

Lance props himself up on his elbows, looking at Keith. "You went too close to the water. Out of practice."

Keith sighs. "Yeah." Raises his leg in the air, turning it this way and that to ease the ache. He turns his head slightly to look at Lance. The moonlight reflects sideways off the rolling ocean waves, hitting his irises at an angle that turns them silver-blue. Lance smiles, lips tightly pressed together, before grunting slightly as he shifts, bringing one arm over Keith so he's propped up over him.

Keith's chest constricts. Lance is smirking, swinging one knee over into the space between his legs. He leans closer, softly pressing a kiss to his lips as Keith's eyes flutter closed. He pulls back almost immediately, leaving it chaste, and then just as quickly moves to kiss his jaw, slow and heavy as he kisses down the line and then shifts to Keith's neck, stopping there to suck consistently on one spot.

Keith slowly gasps out a moan, the stinging of a growing bruise beneath Lance's lips working heat down his chest and his stomach. He shifts, arching his back slightly to have as much of his body touching Lance as he can, and Lance moves with him, intent on leaving him a hicky that will last for days, he guesses.

"Lance," Keith whines. Lance's hand just trails down to find his, lacing his fingers with Keith's in response and pressing his hand softly into the cool sand. When Lance finally pulls back, it's with the skin of Keith's neck still caught so Lance's lips make a kissing noise and leave one last satisfying feeling of the skin being pulled.

Keith tries to calm his breathing, but it's fruitless because Lance kisses him straight on the mouth again, lips pushing and opening Keith's mouth so Lance can slip his tongue inside, can swirl it around in his mouth and move his knee forward a bit until it's snug right under Keith's crotch and Keith is positive he can feel his boner.

"Mmh- stop," Keith gasps, moving his head to the side after another minute or so. "You can't - you have to explain this."

"What's to explain?" Lance mutters, face solemn and honest as he hovers over Keith.

"Why are you kissing me?"

"Because you're attractive."

"I-" Keith inhales and exhales because his heart needs to stop stuttering in his chest like that. His gut clenches. "Then why did you break up with me?"

"Because..." Lance looks down to Keith's lips again. "Because - I said already. Things just weren't working out." He leans down to kiss Keith again.

Keith lets him for another couple minutes, and then turns his head off to the side again to keep talking - but Lance kisses his cheek and then his jaw and it's so hard to focus. "Are you going to actually explain anything to me?" Keith scowls, but he doesn't push Lance back because he's enjoying this.

Lance leans back. "I couldn't stand all the fighting, Keith. There wasn't any harmony between us."

"Well I-"

"It was every damn day. This or that - eventually I realized I don't want to keep going with someone who was so different from me. It's not your _fault,_ or my _fault._ It just wasn't working out. We can't be together and happy when there are so many differences that keep us from getting along. So I didn't want to keep going."

Keith just stares at him. He still doesn't get it. All couples have fights. None of what Lance is saying was something that bothered him before. "I don't feel that way."

"Well, a relationship goes both ways," Lance says softly. "And I did feel that way."

He kisses Keith again, harder this time until all rational thought falls out of Keith's brain. His hands start roaming, first trailing down Keith's neck, down his shoulders, then creeping slowly up his shirt, feeling up Keith's abs and his chest. Keith shivers under the contact.

"How far are you planning to go tonight?" Keith gasps out, hands clutching Lance's back for an anchor.

"However far you want," Lance purrs in his ear. Keith's muscles tense up at it.

"How far did you _want_ to go??"

"Mm, all the way." Lance catches Keith's ear between his teeth and pulls - a move Keith doesn't particularly enjoy but gets really damn turned on by. And Lance knows that. Keith keens. "Sound good, Keith?" He does it again, and Keith squirms underneath him, jeans so uncomfortable now it's painful.

"Yeah, all right," Keith mumbles, and he can feel Lance's smile curl against his ear. Lance leaves one last little bite on Keith's ear before moving back down to his throat, choosing another spot to leave a second hicky as his fingers hook over Keith's belt.

Keith whimpers again as the dull sting rises up under Lance's lips, as Lance sloooowly pulls Keith's belt out, fingers grazing his dick lightly through the fabric as he unbuckles them.

He works gently, delicately pulling Keith's jeans down. Keith bends his legs to help as Lance miraculously slides them down to his ankles without breaking contact at Keith's neck. It's getting borderline painful now, one that Keith knows is going to take days to fade.

Lance finally pulls back just to pull off his own jeans, but then decides against taking them all the way off and slides them down just enough. He comes back up, stroking one hand through Keith's hair and roughly dragging his hips against Keith's. The rough jean fabric against Keith's bare skin coupled with gritty sand shifting against Keith's entire body makes him shiver again, hands coming back up to grip Lance tightly as he grinds again against Keith.

The chain that dangles to the side of Lance's hip creates cool and smooth contact against Keith's skin, stark contrast to the rough warm drag of Lance's jeans. Lance reaches back to unhook it from his belt loop. "Your costume's gonna get dirty," Keith chides softly.

Lance grins. "I can pretend it's in character." It's a clear joke, and a shitty one, but Keith laughs anyway because he's giddy. Then Lance reaches up, grabbing Keith's elbows and pulling them down away from his body, straightening until he's sitting back, holding Keith's arms together. Keith watches him with wide eyes as he slowly unwraps the chain from his hand and wraps it instead around Keith's wrists, clipping the end of it to itself and effectively binding Keith's hands together.

They only do this when they're pissed at each other, honestly, or when they're just really in the mood - and Keith can't tell which one it is right now, but Lance leans back down, pushing Keith's hands up above his head and into the sand and pulls on his other earlobe with his mouth and if he wasn't before, Keith is _definitely_ in the mood for it now.

Lance kisses down until he latches into a spot just under Keith's jawbone and sucks mercilessly. Keith squirms again, whimpering, tries to move his hands to find something to ground himself with, but Lance just pushes them further into the cool sand. He keeps up a smooth, steady friction against Keith's hips, until Keith loses it and moans heavy into the night.

That's when Lance finally leans away, taking time to grin down at Keith, who's red-faced and lightly panting already. "Will you get on with it," Keith mutters.

"Mm, as you wish," Lance says, kissing Keith's lips and reaching down to slide Keith's underwear down. There's a brief moment when Lance pauses, and then he leans up and away, turning and stretching his body to reach over the toppled motorcycle and into a bag. He comes back with a bottle of lube and returns his attention to Keith's lips as he clicks it open.

Keith shudders when Lance pushes the first finger inside, working at him and stretching him. It's with the second finger that Keith moans again, into Lance's mouth as Lance's tongue edges to the back of Keith's mouth. "You're beautiful," Lance whispers in response to it, and Keith's lips curve in this stupid smile he really shouldn't have considering that this is _wrong,_ considering that they shouldn't even be on this beach in the first place, considering they broke up, considering that Lance is drawing out his fingers and pulling his own underwear down just enough and ohhhh fuck.

He doesn't continue with that though, just starts peppering Keith's entire face with kisses, over his nose, his eyelids, his cheeks, his forehead. "Lance," Keith huffs.

"Keith."

"Get _on with it._ "

"That eager to be done with me..?"

"That eager to be _doing it_ with you, fucking get on with it before I lose my patience with you and leave."

Lance laughs and kisses Keith on the mouth as he gently lines himself up with Keith. He reaches up to massage Keith's wrist under the loose chain with his thumb. And then he pushes himself in and Keith's breath flutters and hitches, eyes stuttering closed as Lance fills him and stretches him.

He begins to move, slow at first, and then picking up pace, kisses edging sloppier with each passing second, gasps sharper, the rough sand scratching against Keith's skin as his body jerks with every push. "Nnh, fuck, Lance," Keith gasps, elbows moving as he involuntarily attempts to jerk his hands down or to the side or to find anything to grab onto. The friction of Lance's jeans just below his hips still causes friction, chafing the inside of Keith's legs somewhat, but Keith doesn't care. Barely even notices it.

All he can find himself focusing on is Lance's lips sucking hard on Keith's throat again, his thumbs rubbing soothing circles into the skin of Keith's wrists, every thrust shooting heat and pleasure straight to Keith's core until he's twisting his arms helplessly because - "shit, Lance, Lance I'm - fuck fuck fuck-"

He comes so hard his entire body shakes with the sensation. Lance gives a few more thrusts and then pulls out right before he follows after Keith, moaning and leaning himself slowly into the sand next to Keith. His jeans are already pulled back up to his waistline. He reaches up, unclips the chain around Keith's wrists, and brings them down, pressing his lips softly to the reddening skin.

Keith's just breathing hard, weak with what they just did. He watches Lance through his lowered eyelashes as Lance gently massages his wrists, pressing his lips to them, warming them in his hands. "I miss you," he murmurs into Keith's wrist.

"Then take me back," Keith says softly.

Lance shakes his head.

"But you said-"

"I told you my reasons, Keith," he says slowly, moving to kiss the other wrist. "What we want isn't necessarily what we get."

"But if you want me, you already have me," Keith stresses - but his voice sounds broken, quiet.

"We've both changed from four years ago," Lance says. "And we were already so different back then, I'm honestly surprised we managed as well as we did for so long. But I - I realized that I don't want to live out my life with someone who I just. Someone where I had to put in so much effort - to maintain a relationship with."

"But that goes both ways, no matter what relationship it is..."

"Keith." Lance leans away from his hands, still holding them but moving them so he has space to let his words drift out toward Keith through the night. "I like you. Yeah? I do. But I was _not happy._ "

" _Why-_ "

"Sometimes you don't know why, okay? Sometimes it's a thousand little things that somehow mean something you can't understand and I don't understand it but I. I don't know. I don't regret anything. Okay? And you gotta stop trying to get me to change my mind because I _won't._ "

Keith's quiet for a minute. He's burning up inside - because he wants to know _why._ He wants a specific issue he can fix, something he did wrong he can make amends for, not this bullshit 'we don't work together' because they do work together, they have for a long time and it's _bullshit._ But he's tired and he's afraid of pushing Lance farther away because he's not kissing his wrists anymore, just rubbing gentle circles with his fingers.

"So... are we, what, friends with benefits now?" He asks slowly. "Because that was the second time in a week."

"... I guess," Lance says, letting himself roll onto his back. He pulls Keith's hands with him, lays them against his chest. Keith can feel his heartbeat, steady.

 _That's not fair,_ Keith wants to say.

"We can stop when you want, though."

And then they just lay there, breathing together.

* * *

_"Keith, I'm not in the_ mood. _I'm exhausted."_

_"But I am! Let's go."_

_"Why don't you go on your own."_

_"What - you never go with me anywhere anymore. Why do you hate spending time with me so much?"_

_Lance scoffs from where he's sprawled on the sofa. "Really? Really, you just said that. Those are the words I just heard come out of the mouth of my_ boyfriend. _"_

_"Well, I'm sorry. But last you skipped out on clubbing because you were hungry and then you just fell asleep. The time before that you said you were tired, but when I came home early you were out to town with Nyma and Shiro."_

_"That day you went out with_ Acxa, _Keith. Or have you forgotten that? I thought you'd want to spend time with a friend, so I did the same! What, you're jealous?"_

 _"You_ know _I'm not jealous," Keith seethes. "You keep trying to lower me to that level. But I like to know what you're doing because I care about you and I'm interested in your life, and I find it kind of questionable that you_ don't _want me to know."_

_"What the fuck is so important, so life-changing, about knowing that I had a few drinks with a friend?? You're-"_

_"Controlling? Yeah, you love to just throw words around like that."_

_"Maybe because you_ are. _you freak out when things aren't exactly how you think they should be." Lance turns over, resting his head on his arm as he lays on his side._

_"What, is this suddenly about my entire personality, now?" Keith laughs. "What do you want me to do, just grow up as a different person just for you? We're going. Come on. Let's go."_

_"Keith_ I don't want to go clubbing."

"We're going! _I'm just trying to have a good night, why do you need to_ try _to ruin it?"_

_Lance lets out a low, hollow laugh. There's a long pause. "Fine. Let's go!" He stands, pushing roughly past Keith and knocking over the coat hanger when he grabs his jacket._

_"Thank you," Keith scowls._

* * *

Keith is awoken rudely by an incessant ringing sometime in the middle of the night. He groans, trying to figure out why the hell there's an alarm going off when it's very clearly still pitch black outside - his phone, instead of displaying the time, is lit up with Matt's contact and two buttons. He presses end call and he's _almost_ back asleep when it rings again and Lance groans, "will you just see what they want."

Keith lets out a frustrated groan and picks up. "What," he snaps crankily into the receiver.

"Keith?"

" _What,_ " he repeats.

"Pidge is in the hospital. There was an accident."

Keith sits up immediately. "... _What?_ "

* * *

_"Keith, we gotta go."_

_"I told you. I'm tired," Keith frowns, turning up the volume on the tv._

_"You would be doing literally the exact same thing you're doing now," Lance says. "You're not too tired if it's X-Files. But you are if it's my movie?"_

_"I've already seen that movie."_

_"You've already seen X-Files."_

_Keith says nothing._

_"Don't let Ezor and Acxa down, Keith, I thought Acxa was your friend."_

_Again, nothing._

_"Are you even listening to me?" Lance moves to wave a hand in front of Keith's face. Keith shoves him roughly away._

_"You want to go so badly, you can go," Keith snarls. "I'm tired and I'm not fucking going."_

_Lance sighs out through his nose. "Fine."_

_Last thing Keith hears is the slam of the door._

* * *

"We need to go to the hospital," Keith is saying, hands shaking as he fumbles with his jeans. He's freezing. "We need to go _now._ "

"What?" Lance sits up. "Why?" He checks his phone. "It's 3:48."

"Yeah," Keith says, trying for the life of him to get his fucking belt through the belt loops.

"Are you - here-" Lance takes the end of the belt and fits it calmly through, hands gracing over Keith's hips as he brings it all the way around and buckles it. "Are you okay? What happened?"

"We need to _go,_ " Keith stresses. He stumbles to the toppled motorcycle and attempts to push it back right side up - an unsuccessful endeavor until Lance comes around and helps. Keith's hands are shaking. Lance places his fingers firmly over his, clasping them in his hands.

"Keith," Lance says slowly. "What's wrong."

"Pidge is in the hospital," Keith says. "She's my set-producer friend - we can't waste time, let's go."

"Okay. I'm driving." Lance picks up the helmet and fits it over his head. "Get on."

There's something in his face Keith can't understand, but he isn't trying to because he's focusing on Pidge. What kind of fucking accident??? When did this happen? What was she doing? Did all this happen while he was busy fucking Lance and worrying about his love life?

… Is she okay?

* * *

Keith doesn’t realize where they’re going until they’re turning into the lot of Keith’s apartment. “What are you doing?” he demands. “We need to go-”

“Keith.” Lance stops the bike, turns the keys. Slides them out. “Your clothes are dirty, we’re covered in sand, we need to change first. It’s not like our presence at the hospital is mission critical. Let’s go change.”

Keith nods, drawing in a shaky breath. Okay. Okay, that makes sense.

He fumbles with his keys until Lance takes them from him, unlocking the door with considerably less difficulty than Keith was having. Keith pushes past him into the dark.

“Can I wear something of yours?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Keith says absently, grabbing something out of his closet and changing without turning the lights on. “Um, you can stay here, I’ll go to the hospital…”

“You’re shaking. I’ll drive you.”

“Okay…”

* * *

_“Keith, come on, you were so excited when we bought these tickets. Just take a different plane! You’re just sitting around in Chicago for the first two weeks, anyway.”_

_“Everyone’s going, Lance.”_

_“Because everyone saw the show three weeks ago! You turned that one down because you said you wanted to see it with me alone. You said we’d get dinner together - do you even remember that?”_

_Keith sighs. “You’re being dramatic. Just find someone else! You’re famous, I’m sure someone will be willing to go with you. I have a job that I need to work.”_

_“Dramatic?” Lance doesn’t sound angry or indignant like Keith expects. “Oh, Lance, let’s go see the circus with each other, it’ll be fun, no one else, just us. We can watch it and go out on a date afterwards. It’ll be romantic.”_

_“And it would have been!” Keith insists. “But something came up. Can you really not understand that?”_

_Lance huffs “No, I can’t. Because you can take a plane any time between now and the seventeenth.”_

_“Everyone’s going now. I’m going with the crew.”_

_“Do you actually need to?”_

_“_ Yes. _”_

 _“Really. It’s_ absolutely imperative _for you to miss the show and fly to Chicago and you can’t possibly do it later.”_

_“Yes! God damn it, Lance!”_

_“So it doesn’t matter to you that maybe I was looking forward to spending the evening with you? You’d rather that I just picked some acquaintance I don’t care all that much about and share something I was hoping to share with someone I love.”_

_Keith groans and tips his head back. “Really? You’re playing this card. I thought we were past middle school, but okay.” He sets down the spoon, lowers the heat on the stove, turns around and claps both hands on Lance’s shoulders. “I. Can’t. Go.”_

_Lance looks genuinely betrayed, something bitter and sad whirling inside him, underneath his stony complexion._

_Keith raises his eyebrows pointedly._

_“Fine,” Lance shrugs._

* * *

“Are you family?”

“I’m adopted,” Keith says without hesitation. He’s not above lying, but he does try to avoid it when he has to.

“We’re together,” Lance says smoothly, and Keith turns to give him a confused, cautious look, but Lance just slips an arm around his waist.

“Right.” The nurse nods. “Come this way, please.”

“Is she alright?” Keith blurts out, leaning into Lance.

The nurse just turns around to look at them briefly, not slowing down his pace.

Lance exchanges a glance with Keith. "She'll be fine," he whispers quietly, not so different from when they were talking just hours ago. But the context is wildly so.

"Keith," he hears, and Matt is up and pulling Keith in for an embrace. Keith returns it in full force before Matt moves to Lance, and Keith expects him to hold out his hand and introduce himself, but he wraps his arms around Lance just the same. "Lance, wow, I'm glad you're here, I tried to call but-"

"My phone's dead," Lance nods. He steps back. "I heard from Keith. Is she okay?"

"I..."

A doctor walking down the hall stops in front of them. "Mr. Matt Holt? We're letting you know that Katie has been admitted to the ER for surgery. She'll make it, but she's suffered heavy stress and shock. She will want you here when she comes back."

"Oh, thank god," Matt sobs, bringing his palms up to press against his eyes and then weaving his fingers back into his hair, leading his hands up and over his head. "Thank god." He sits down heavily in one of two chairs against the wall.

"We're going to ask that you and your family move into the waiting room, though, sir," she says, and Matt nods numbly without actually making any move to stand up.

"If you could give us a moment, doctor," Lance says smoothly. "We'll head right back."

"Of course, take your time," the doctor replies with a smile. "I understand." She turns and walks back to where she came from.

* * *

"I saw her. Briefly," Matt mutters. They have a corner of the room to themselves, with Keith and Lance on either side of Matt. "On a stretcher. She was covered but her face-" he gestured to his features. "All bloody, and I guess it looks worse than it is-"

"It does," Lance assures him.

"But there was so much of it."

Keith feels like throwing up. "How long have you known Pidge?" he asks Lance quietly, remembering his drawing of them sitting across from each other at the Starbucks table.

"We're childhood friends," he says.

Keith raises his eyebrows. "Really. Because neither of you have mentioned the other before..."

He looks up to make eye contact with Keith. "Yeah, we sort of fell out of contact for a while, but we've been talking more recently."

Keith nods slowly, just tiny movements of his head.

* * *

_“Keith, I have to cancel,” Lance sighs as Keith sucks on the skin just above his collarbone._

_He detaches, leans himself up, props himself on his elbows. “What?”_

_Lance’s cheeks are flushed from the tequila. “You know the twins? They swapped roles for about half their scenes that we’ve filmed so far, and now I need to work the weekend to refilm. So… trip canceled.”_

_Keith just laughs, feeling wild and bold. “We have a reservation with the beachhouse, you know that.”_

_“I know, I knoooow,” Lance groans. “I’m so sorry. We’ll go, I promise, but I can’t this weekend.”_

_Keith shakes his head, exhaling sharply out his nose in amusement. “What, it’s not like you’re going to lose the role.”_

_“Well,_ no, _but…”_

_“So who cares? Spend time with me…” He trails one finger down the side of Lance’s face and down his bare chest in an attempt to persuade him._

_Lance hesitates. “I… don’t really think that’s advisable right now…”_

_“Shh,” Keith insists, pressing his mouth to Lance’s, playing with his tongue to make it stop forming more words. “No more. Let’s have fun. Take a break from work!” He kisses him again, deeper, longer, fire and sunshine on their breath and their tongues._

_“Mm,” Lance hums as Keith returns to his collarbone. “Okay. Compelling argument. But I also like not having to rush my job, and this stunt condenses the timeline already.”_

_“Just let yourself be compelled by the argument,” Keith says, massaging down the side of Lance’s hip with his palm. “And I’m going to mark you up so bad, it’s not like you’re going to be able to film anything, anyway.” Lance gasps in with a huff of laughter as Keith decides to suck on his throat halfway between his Adam’s apple and his jaw, where he’d need nothing short of a scarf or a turtleneck to hide._

_They fuck harder than usual that night, bed squeaking, body aching kind of hard. But it’s not the hardest Keith can go. And Lance knows that. Lance’s neck and shoulders are covered in splotches and bruises by the time sleep is hazing through their brains. Keith draws lines between them with a light finger like they’re constellations. “I promise even better this weekend,” he purrs slyly into the space. His head is pounding, but he’s still riding off the tequila high._

_“Mm, alright,” Lance hums softly, weak and tired but still smiling. A heavy arm wraps around Keith’s waist. “C’mere.” Pulls him closer to Lance’s chest._

_Keith grins and takes the opportunity to start on another hickey, but Lance groans in protest. “You made your point, Babe. Lemme sleep.”_

_Keith laughs. “Last one.”_

_Lance’s work can withstand his absence for one weekend._

* * *

It's nine in the morning when the hospital opens and regular people are allowed inside. Acxa arrives with the steadily increasing crowd.

"Keith, I came as soon as I could. Is she okay?" She focuses on Matt and sticks her hand out. "I'm Acxa, I know Pidge from work..."

"Matt," he replies, standing, his voice hoarse. "Brother."

She shakes and then pulls him in for a quick embrace. "Have you heard any news?"

"How's she doing?" Behind Acxa strides in Lotor, his smooth voice joining their group.

"Looks like that's what we're about to find out," Lance says, looking over his shoulder to where the doctor from the night before is making her way over.

"Let's step away for a bit," the doctor suggests, and Keith rises to follow her through the door. 

"Is everything okay?" Matt asks anxiously.

"The operation went smoothly," the doctor says gently. "Katie is alright. However, she's briefly under a catatonic state, and we're estimating about a week's recovery."

Keith raises both hands to his mouth to hide how it drops open. Pidge is _comatose._ Lance turns away, hands in pockets, the side of his face Keith can see set in stone. Matt sort of freezes.

"Thank you doctor," he says softly. "Can we visit her?"

She nods. "We're monitoring her for a bit, but you will be able to visit her in the evening after five." She gives a kind, sympathetic smile. "I understand that it's hard, and you're welcome to wait here, but I suggest you head out and go about your regular daily activities. Keep your evening free for her, but try not to let your prior obligations build up."

Matt nods. She walks past them to direct them back to the waiting room.

It's after she leaves that Matt collapses into his seat and starts crying. Lance rubs his back, talking softly, while Keith looks helplessly at Acxa.

"What is it?" Allura asks, evidently having arrived while they were away.

"Pidge is in a coma," Keith says bluntly, and Allura clamps a hand over her mouth.

Lotor frowns. "That's unfortunate. You have my condolences. Keith, you'll have to cover for her."

Keith nods. "Yeah."

"I'll leave you, now, but Katie has my good wishes."

Allura shakes her head. "I have to go, too, but I - I'm... I'm so sorry." She adjusts her purse. "Let me know if you need anything." She follows after Lotor, making conversation with him on her way out.

Acxa turns back to Keith. "How are you?"

Keith shrugs. "I don't know. At least she's okay. The doctor says she'll be fine."

"Oh, man, are those for me?" Lance is eyeing a news crew waiting outside the hospital doors. "God. Hey, is there a back exit to this place?"

"Probably," Acxa says.

"Right. I'm checking out of here. Catch up with you later. I have to charge my phone and all, too."

"Motorcycle's in front," Keith points out.

Lance groans. "Yup, and I've gotta drop you off too." He turns his gaze to Matt, concerned again. "Just give me a ring if you need anything, okay? And I'll be back in the evening, too, to see her."

"Me too," Keith promises, picking up his jacket, which is draped over the back of the chair because he used it as a pillow.

"Thanks," Matt says roughly, looking up at them both. "Really."

"Yeah, man," Lance says. He frowns at the floor before turning. "C'mon, Keith." He rolls one shoulder, psyching himself up for the newscast outside. Keith watches with a notable lack of amusement as another van pulls up, one girl jumping out and hurrying around the back to help the cameraman.

The reporter rushes up to Lance as soon as they come out the door, looking kind and eager to chat - confirming that, yes, they're here for Lance. Lance meets him with a flat stare before even a single question is out of his mouth.

"Are you Lance McClain?"

"No, I'm Bruce Willis," Lance says.

The reporter laughs, extends his hand. "It's an honor to make your acquaintance. Do you mind if I ask you a few questions? Is it true you're together with - what's your name?"

Keith blinks when he finds the microphone pointed his way. "What?"

"Your name?"

"... Kei-"

"He's a friend of mine, and we're on our way out of a hospital after having waited all night to see a mutual friend who was admitted last night," Lance says. "I'm afraid I can't answer any questions right now."

"Of course, I understand. Would you be open to scheduling an interview with us? And just to satiate my curiosity for now - is it true you're dating?"

"Wha- Where are you getting this information?" Keith chokes out, voice breaking.

There's a pause, a brief moment where everyone is still. And then-

"Oh." Lance leans back, tipping his head up to the sky. "Ohhhh. Oh. It was the nurse."

Something settles heavy and cold in Keith's stomach. He opens his mouth again, but then Lance-

"Yeah, s'true," Lance sighs. He slips an arm around Keith's waist again, the second time in twenty four hours and it catches him off guard - _again_. "But no to the interview." He looks meaningfully at the second reporter that comes up with her cameraman as he says this. "Same to you, darling. Let's go, Keith."

"Keith," the reporter breathes under his breath, nodding. "Thank you, Mr. McClain! Are you sure you wouldn't like to sched-"

"Yes," Lance stresses, not glancing back as he pulls Keith away.

"What the hell," Keith demands as they roll out of the parking lot.

"I couldn't deny it, Keith," Lance scowls. "I'd rather deal with annoying media than complications with a hospital in which my friend is a comatose patient."

Okay, that's fair. "You should have let me know beforehand."

"Why? So you could freak out about it and then suggest we actually get back together again?"

Keith frowns. "I wasn't planning on it."

"Since when do you ever _plan_ on anything?" Lance says it with a laugh, lightly, but it pisses Keith off.

"What," he clips.

"Cue freakout."

"I-" Keith doesn't know what he's trying to say.

"Just go with it. This is how you keep a crowd entertained."

Keith sits quiet, stewing, until they get back to his apartment.

"Alright. Uh, see you," Lance says. "Tonight, I guess."

Keith frowns, swinging off the bike and standing. "So... we're. Fake dating, after breaking up, and friends... with... benefits."

Lance turns his face down, eyes grazing the cracks in the cement. "I guess so."

Keith inhales through his nose. Lets his eyelids fall. Four years they kept it hidden... and now everything's a shitshow. Like, if he went through and had the chance to propose, right now they would be out anyway. And he was prepared for that then. But this... this just hurts.

"Hey," Lance says, and Keith's eyes pull open. "Don't sweat it. It'll die off, they just want magazine fuel. I won't tell them anything more, okay? And if they hound after you just brush them away."

Keith keeps the eye contact, understanding but not liking the situation and not showing any indication that he's okay with it. They both look like shit - eyes darkened with fatigue, breeze caressing messy hair and rumpled clothes. The sunlight is bright but still comfortable, the softened temperature slightly reminiscent of their night on the beach. Keith reaches up to curl his fingers through Lance's grainy hair, sand brushing free and dusting his shirt.

"Keith..." Lance sighs, like he's about to say _don't..._ but Keith just pulls him down gently, and he follows - mouth drawing closer because Keith wants to feel him, touch him, hold him close again -

But he stops, their breaths mingling with each other and ghosting over his lips. Because this isn't allowed anymore.

"See you," he returns into the tiny space between them. Then he steps away.

Turns.

Leaves.

* * *

Acxa breaks off mid conversation to smile at a text during lunch. He leans over out of curiosity, but she turns the screen down flat on the table.

“Wow, is that your girlfriend?” he teases, and Acxa blushes deeper than usual… which is. Interesting.

“Ezor asked me to come to a party she’s holding,” Acxa says. “So, no, definitely not.”

“Give it time.”

“I’m straight.”

“You’re a lesbian.”

“Straight heterosexual.”

“Gay lesbian homosexual.”

“I’m not even - I’m bi, you know that-”

“And Ezor is a lesbian.”

Acxa laughs. “She doesn’t like me.”

Keith shrugs. “I don’t invite people to my parties when I don’t like them.”

Acxa lowers her eyes, still smiling. “No, really. I’m serious. She has a crush on Narti.”

Keith’s eyebrows fly up. “Narti’s a genius. But seriously? I didn’t even know they knew each other?”

Acxa nods. “They knew each other. But I also have a lunch date with Ezor tomorrow, which is one thing Narti doesn’t, so I’m enjoying myself, at least.”

Keith snorts. “Give it time,” he sing-songs. “Lunch date? Where are you going?”

“Same place as last time,” she says. “Little hole-in-the-wall sandwich cafe.” She sets her hand on the table suddenly, like she’s just remembered something important. “She won’t let me pay for the food. Like, ever.”

Keith frowns, chewing. Holds up a hand to talk behind. “Wait, wait. Back up. There have been several lunch dates?”

“Just two,” Acxa says, shaking her head. “And once for dinner.”

“Damn.” He chews, staring thoughtfully at the fluttering tree leaves on the birch to his left. “Keeping secrets.”

She frowns. “Lance’s costume was in your room this morning.”

Keith goes cold. “Yeah, that…”

“I figured it out.”

Keith doesn’t know what to say to that. “Oh,” he decides. It’s a preposterously underwhelming reaction.

“I understand that you still love him, Keith,” she says. “Very much. But I don’t want you getting hurt. Do you know what you’re doing?”

The truth is, he doesn’t. He doesn’t know what he’s doing. He frowns. “Yeah.”

“Are you sure you can handle… whatever is going on with you two?”

“Yeah.”

The concern doesn’t leave her face. “Okay…”

He shrugs. “I’m in control of the situation.”

A girl named Rhoe runs up to him. “Mr. Kogane,” she’s gasping. Keith raises an eyebrow at the intern. “Set’s on fire.”

… Oh.

He swears, shoving one last spoon of rice into his mouth before standing and running after her, ignoring the situational irony.

* * *

_"I want to have sex in the ocean,” Lance says passionately as they stroll through the rental house._

_Keith shudders. “What the fuck, Lance.”_

_“I’m deadass serious.”_

_“You’d drown.”_

_“I’m a good swimmer!” There’s a bunk bed in this room. Lance starts climbing it before Keith holds up a laminated sheet of paper asking for no more than a hundred pounds on the top bunk._

_“Well, I’d drown.”_

_“I’d keep you afloat.”_

_“Assuming you manage to do that, we’d both get infected, and it would be very painful, and I am the exact opposite of eager for a situation like that.”_

_Lance pouts at him. Keith laughs. “There’s a pool.”_

_Sparkles appear in Lance’s eyes. “There’s a_ pool? _”_

_“Yes, Lance, this was on the website.” Keith laughs. “Did you even read it?”_

_“Yeah, but it’s not like I_ remember. _Lance swerves around Keith as he rushes out of the room, pounding down the echoing hallways to find his pool. Keith follows him._

_He finds Lance standing in awe before the shimmering water. “I want to have sex in the pool.”_

_Keith raises an eyebrow. “Control yourself, Jesus Christ.”_

_Lance just turns to him, a devilish grin spinning his features into an expression he only wears when he’s about to do some stupid shit._

_“Lance,” Keith warns, but Lance catches his arm and yanks him forward hard. Keith stumbles into him, catching himself on his broad chest. “Lance,” he laughs, but his breath catches. “It was a long drive, come on, let’s just sleep. Tomorrow.”_

_“Aw, c’mon,” Lance says. “You promised you’d give me better this weekend.”_

_“Hmph.” Keith leans back haughtily despite Lance’s monkey arms holding him steady and flush against Lance at the waist. “Wasn’t I good enough for you last time?”_

_“This is better,” Lance smirks, and then he tightens his grip and lets himself fall sideways into the water._

_Keith’s shoulder hits the ground hard because he’s stupid. He comes back up gasping and rubbing it. “My clothes, Lance!” he yells, trying to flick his hair out of the way, but it’s plastered to his face._

_“Oh, I’m sorry,” Lance says, amused. “Here, let me help you out of them.” Lance’s hands are roaming all over, slowly peeling off his Adidas jacket as Keith leans forward to bite at Lance’s lip for revenge. Lance just enjoys it more, laughing low and husky as Keith frees his arms and tries to get Lance’s own shirt off._

_Lance ducks underwater and comes back up with it off, standing up again and coming up to kiss Keith, smoothing his hair back from his face, licking the drops of pool water from the corner of Keith's mouth. He takes his sweet time pulling Keith’s shirt off of him, like he’s enjoying the slow unveiling of Keith’s body._

_Keith’s not so patient - he pulls out Lance’s belt and yanks off his pants, only that results in Lance in his underwear still undressing Keith agonizingly slowly. There’s a soft sound as Keith’s belt lands on the ground on top of his shirt, and then Lance is ducking underwater, blowing bubbles at every inch of Keith’s skin as his leg slips out of his pants._

_It has Keith laughing, squirming in the water as he grabs blindly at the shifting image of Lance in the water. But Lance comes back up and grabs Keith’s ass and pulls him close, grinding on him under the surface and kissing him above it._

_It does turn out to be a lot better, like Keith promised. Slow as Lance fucks into him, draining as the water drags against them, and Keith’s so exhausted by the time they’re done that Lance literally carries him out of the pool and all the way to the shower so they can clean off before bed. They kiss under the steaming water, and it doesn’t once occur to Keith that he’s forced Lance to come here when he had more pressing matters. It doesn’t once occur to him that Lance is trying to make the most of everything so he can pretend he’s not neglecting his work._

_Because why would it._

_He’s too caught up in the boy he’s pressed against under the double shower._

* * *

Keith manages to get off work early. He's fucking _exhausted._ He still finds himself faced with trouble at the hospital - there's this little cafe as part of the lobby, and he recognizes the female reporter from earlier in the day sitting across the nurse who admitted them last night at a table. She has a notepad, carefully scribbling down everything he says. Keith pauses, makes eye contact with the nurse.

The reporter recognizes him, too, unfortunately. She brightens up and waves him over - he pulls in a deep breath before approaching.

"Hi, it's great to meet you - I'm Hira Cameron. Do you know when Mr. McClain may be available for an interview?" she asks.

"No," he scowls. "What are we talking about here?"

Hira takes the rejection graciously. "I'm just trying to understand the situation with Katie Holt, the set designer. You are a friend of hers, correct?"

 _If they hound after you, just brush them off._ Keith frowns. "I'm sorry, I'm busy right now."

Hira nods. "Would we be able to talk later?"

"I don't think so." He turns away, blocking out the sound of her clear, low voice as she suggests something else, heading to speak to the receptionist instead.

The first thing he notices about Pidge when they show him to her room is the scratches over her face, nicks in her skin that trail from her temple down to her jaw, scrapes on her left cheek, a cut over her right eyebrow. Her lip is split at the bottom. The second thing he notices is her broken left arm, wrapped in a cast but clearly a result of the accident. Matt isn't in the room. The nurse leaves him and he lowers himself into a chair at her bedside.

He sighs through the tightening of his chest and reaches forward to weave his fingers through hers, careful to avoid moving the IV. Some idle part of him laughs at the irony of the situation - he has access to a real coma patient, now. The monitors may be meaningless to him, but they'll be on the set he's supposed to design. So great to have a reference.

Her hand's warm.

He abandons it eventually in favor of her phone on the table by her head. There's a slurry of notifications asking if she's okay. He picks up the necklace on the table as he scrolls, reaching up to clasp it with one hand around his own neck and tucking it into her shirt because he doesn't like the thought of all her visitors coming in and seeing something so personal. He's almost got it when one notification catches his eye. It's from Lance. And, again, he's surprised that they were so close and he never knew - but the text has him dwelling on something else.

He loses his control on the clasp and it falls, slung around his neck like he would with a towel or a scarf. He frowns, making sure the locket won't fall through the clasp, before abandoning it to swipe open the notification and scan his thumbprint on the button.

_pidge this is so fucking hard why did u ask me to break up in the first goddamn place_

_holy shit I just heard matt called Keith and I guess you don't have your phone on you byt are you okay???_

_if I'm not there whenbyou wake up pidge I want you to know I love you so much and I'm glad you're okay ._

Keith frowns, something ugly and sick collecting in the pit of his stomach. _why did u ask me to break up in the first place_.

_ask me to break up._

_why did u._

why did u ask me to break up in the first goddamn place.

He puts the phone down. Rereading it over and over again until it doesn't make sense anymore isn't helping - he turns slowly to look at Pidge's face when he hears the door open and close.

"Hey, Keith," Matt says in a rough voice. "Sorry, I was in the bathroom..." he settles into a chair he pulls up next to Keith. Glances at Keith's face. "... you okay?"

Keith nods, furiously trying to will his tears away. He doesn't know how to possibly explain to himself, let alone to Matt - so he just goes, "yeah, it's. Just... a shock."

"Yeah," Matt says softly.

"You been here all day?"

"Can't bring myself to leave. She looks so normal, like she's just sleeping..."

Keith nods. Swallows. Stretches his fingers out, palms spread over his knees.

He chats idly with Matt until Lance arrives, at which point he feels like he's kind of going to be sick. It's too much. And she's comatose, which means he can't even ask her about it, and the prospect of asking Lance...

Actually, he's just kind of mad.

Furious, actually.

Betrayed.

Hurt. And he grabs Lance by the elbow as soon as the nurse leaves them, pulling him out into the hallway. But when he opens his mouth, nothing comes out, because he doesn't even know what he wants to _say..._

"Keith..?" Keith's face contorts at the gentle voice. He reaches up to hug himself, clenching his hands around his biceps, and Lance pulls him into a hug. He tries to resist at first, but Lance whispers comfortingly, "hey, Keith..." and he just. Just gives in.

Holds himself but leans into Lance like he does when he's drank himself stupid, shaking with sobs he refuses to let out from his mouth or his eyes. Welcomes Lance's hug and finds himself repelled from him in the same breath. Screws his eyes shut and grits his teeth and lets the warmth pull him in. "What is this?" Lance fingers the necklace that's almost fallen off - "Yours?" And Keith nods because some nasty part of him derives intense pleasure in knowing something about Pidge that can mark him as better friends with her than with him. But then why would she tell Lance to break up with him? Lance gently closes the clasp on the necklace, silent as he stares at the locket - and Keith knows what he's thinking - it's a girl's necklace. So where did Keith get it? But he doesn't care. _We sort of fell out of contact for a while, but we've been talking more recently._

_why did u ask me to break up in the first goddamn place_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things that writing this chapter helped me get over:  
> My best friend ended our friendship and told me to kill myself  
> My uncle died  
> Lately I've been feeling reeeeeeeeeeeally fucking suicidal. Thanks L, you're the only one keeping me going.
> 
> So like, heavy shit. The point of this is to just demonstrate i guess that this reeeeeaaaaally is a fic that's written very sporadically and it's completely dependent on how much bad shit happens in my life. kind of cathartic more than a writing effort. please don't comment on anything from that list, though, because i'm really not willing to talk about it, it's more of like... a journal?
> 
> If you have something to say about the fic though, I crave attention so i'd love your screaming at me :)
> 
>  
> 
> side note i posted this chapter at 4:20 lol


	3. smoke

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back to this shitshow ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

Keith was on antidepressants for some time when he was in high school.

When you start antidepressants doctors warn you that it can sometimes get worse before it gets better. They make sure you understand you need to communicate with the people around you and they warn your mom or your girlfriend or your brother - whoever - to watch you and pay close attention and make sure you don't hurt yourself. They make sure you have a support system so if you decide you want to kill yourself there's a safety net to stop you.

Right now Keith doesn't have that safety net. He doesn't have that support system. He doesn't remember the names or faces of most of the people he's lived with growing up. Acxa's the closest he has to family, but she has her own life and she'll be moving out once she has a place to live.

Lance would have been closest to family, but... well. And Pidge was probably next in line with Acxa, except now they both feel like they're... gone.

Two things:

1- He can't imagine why Pidge would _tell_ Lance to break up with Keith. Did she see something they couldn't?

2- Lance didn't break up with him. Not really. Pidge did, or Pidge told him to, which means it wasn't his decision.

And he's not sure if he's mad at Pidge, or something. He's definitely pissed about how she played dumb with him about it. He also can't bring himself to imagine hooking up with Lance again - they need to get back together or they need to stop. Knowing that Lance _doesn't want to_ stop... means they can just get back together, right?

So he figures that this - this bullshit going on between them is probably that part where things get worse before they get better.

But the other thing is that he's noticed some things in self-reflection. Things that Lance has pointed out coupled with things that Keith has been remembering nostalgically. Things like... well, like how he really really wasn't the best listener for Lance. Things like how he forced Lance to do things when Lance didn't want to and how that probably wasn't very fair of him.

* * *

_"It'll be fun," Keith goads, grinning. "Come on." He grabs Lance's hand and ducks under the caution tape, starts heading up the stairs, pulls Lance along behind him._

_It takes two minutes of Lance anxiously jiggling his knee and muttering worriedly in Keith’s ear for Keith to pick the lock on the roof-access door. When he throws it open he grins, winks at Lance, and bows his head._

_"After you," he says, slipping a little bit of dare and suggestion into his voice. Lance swallows before stepping out into the night._

_They can see all the way to the waterfront from this height. The city glitters around them - Keith grabs the metal bars of the crane that stretches up even higher into the sky and beckons Lance to him with his head._

_"Keith, nooo," Lance whines, staring up at the crane with apprehension._

_"I've done this so many times, Lance," Keith laughs. "Just do it. Let yourself go a little."_

_Lance pouts at him in a way he doesn't really register as the unhappiness that it is before following him up._

* * *

The worst idea he's had yet is to go to a bar on Tuesday night with Lance. Matt told them to just go home, but Lance declared he was going to loosen up some nerves and Keith - Keith just followed him.

And loosened up more than a few nerves.

And really shouldn't be driving right now, but who cares.

Keith stumbles into his apartment drunk, Lance wrapped around his arm easy.

But Acxa's there.

But he can't find it in himself give a shit.

Can't find it in himself to care when Lance is kissing him, when his head is swaying, when Lance is pushing him backwards but he doesn't know the layout of Keith's apartment all that well and the back of Keith's knees hit Acxa's coffee table and he falls and sits down on it hard and Lance rolls with it and angles his mouth the other way and lets his hands roam over Keith's sides and his tongue is in Keith's mouth and everything is just Lance and Lance and Lance-

"Keith," he hears sharply. Repeating. Resonance... " _Keith._ " They break apart so Keith can turn toward the noise and focus vaguely on a pair of knees. "Go to bed."

"M'busy," he slurs, raising his eyes with some struggle. Stomach. Blue shirt. Elbows. Padme meows at him in displeasure from somewhere.

"You're going to bed. Off him, Lance."

Keith whines in complaint as Lance stands up fully, stepping back but swaying.

"Did you drive like this?"

"S'not a big deal," Keith sighs.

"Go to bed."

He doesn't move, so then she's dragging him up by his elbow and pulling him to his room. He lets her sit him down on the bed and then he smiles, because oh he found her face and it's Acxa. "Acxa," he notes, his mood suddenly improved by a mountainous amount.

"Yes," she huffs. "Lie down. Get to bed."

He frowns. "I feel like I'm forgetting something..."

"You're forgetting how to draw the line. Come on. Head on the pillow."

Keith tries to turn to look at the pillow, but the room spins around him so he shuts his eyes and groans.

"If you want to feel better," he hears, voice gentler as one hand supports his head and the other pushes him by the shoulder to lie down. "You should let yourself rest."

"Smart..."

"Now get to sleep. I have to go help Lance."

Keith's eyes open. "Lance is here? He needs help?" He tries to raise his head. "Is he okay?"

Acxa's gaze is one of conflicted pity. "He's fine. Shhh..." she places a hand on his shoulder until his head drops back to the pillow. It feels like cotton is filling his ears. "Don't worry," she says, smoothing some of his hair back.

* * *

_Lance takes one puff before he starts coughing out his lungs. Keith chuckles and takes the cigarette from him, leaning back against the low wall. He waits for the coughing to subside, but when he offers the cigarette to Lance again, Lance waves him off._

_"That's awful."_

_"You'll get used to it."_

_"I don't even_ want _to get used to it."_

_Keith shrugs, smiling, and takes another drag. It settles his nerves as he leans out into the sky that wraps around them at this height, the clouds spun with gold and rose and gentle tangerine. Lance clears his throat some more before Keith snickers and asks if he needs water._

_"I'm fine," he insists, rolling his eyes, but there’s a noticeable play upward of his mouth. Keith lowers his hand from his mouth to support himself against the wall as his gaze rolls out over the empty parking lot, and then circles back to Lance's lips._

_He blows out the smoke from his lungs and then leans in, free hand coming up to curl into Lance's shirt. Lance leans down without much more prompting, bringing their mouths together, tongue slick and warm as it slides past Keith's lips._

_Then Lance leans back. "You've gotta quit," he says._

_Keith frowns. Yeah, he does. "No I don't."_

_Lance raises his eyebrows pointedly. "I'm saying you've gotta quit. At the very least, now that we're together, it's my job to make sure you don't die too much faster than me, so - we're cutting down. You get a pack a week."_

_"Hey," Keith pouts._

_"Yo, I'm dead serious. You can have either me in between your lips or that shit." It's spoken with a slight smirk, because of course Lance is still flirting even when he's 'dead serious.'_

_Keith frowns at him for a bit, and then grinds his half-smoked cigarette into the wall, snubbing out the heat and flicking it out to the street below them before surging forward and capturing Lance's lips again. They're already surrounded in fire and molten heat, sunset blazing around them, passion like ash and brimstone._

_So alright. He'll quit smoking for Lance._

* * *

He wakes up with a screaming headache and finds one of Acxa's blankets on the couch. She's in the kitchen spreading orange marmalade on her toast, three glasses of cranberry juice poured and lined up on the counter. He leans into the wall at the kitchen entrance, watching her mournfully until she turns around and makes eye contact.

"Morning," she says.

"I'm so sorry," he mumbles. Padme purrs and rubs up against his legs before stalking off down the hallway to the bedrooms.

Acxa sighs. "I think I'm not quite the one you really owe an apology to."

Keith frowns. "Did Lance go home?"

"He's sleeping in my room. He isn't up yet."

Keith lowers his eyes, picking up one of the glasses and sipping slowly. The sour-sweet taste jolts his brain somewhat more awake.

"I'm taking the day off from work," she says.

"Lotor will be happy about that," Keith winces.

"He's not without sympathy. He understands. But I need to talk to you and Lance."

Keith takes another sip. "... Talk?"

She leans backward against the counter, taking a bite out of her toast, chewing slowly. "Are you happy being friends with benefits?"

"No," Keith scoffs.

"Then you can't be friends with benefits," Acxa says firmly before Keith can continue. He stills, holding the eye contact as she swallows and takes another bite.

"Well..."

"You can't be friends with benefits."

Keith bristles slightly. "That's my decision-" she just raises her eyebrows pointedly and he deflates somewhat. "Why not?"

She finishes chewing and swallows before answering. "Lance broke up with you because he wasn't happy. He made the harder but the wiser choice. You need to end a relationship you aren't happy with, unless you can work around it, and if you can work around it then you have to do so."

"Lance broke up with me because Pidge _told_ him to!" Keith scowls. "If we just-"

"You know about that?" The voice comes from Acxa's room - Keith glances over, leaning backwards over the counter to see past the wall so he can find where Lance is leaning one hip against Acxa's doorframe. He looks like hell. Eyes shot, hair mussed, clothes wrinkled - and Keith bets he looks the exact same, but Lance is still beautiful in the shadows of the hallway.

"Yeah..." he says. "And I'm more than a little pissed about it."

Lance folds his arms. "Well... she hasn't really liked the relationship for a while now. The decision was my own, though."

Keith grimaces, shaking his head and turning back to face Acxa as he sips more juice. The chill of it helps calm the flare of his anger.

"Let's sit down," Acxa suggests, picking up her glass of juice and moving over to the dining table. "What do you want to eat, Lance?"

Lance comes forward into the room as Keith sits next to Acxa, squinting in the daylight shafting in from the windows. "I'm good," he mumbles, examining the last glass of juice skeptically before picking it up and sitting down across from Keith.

Keith sips his juice.

Acxa takes a bite of her toast.

Keith sips his juice some more.

The awkwardness gently dissipates as the silence grows. Keith lets his eyes wander to the windows, the trees outside and the sunlight. Thinks about Pidge in the hospital. Regrets his decision to go to the bar last night. Honestly, he doesn't think through things.

"I think you two need to both exercise some better self-control," Acxa says softly, breaking the silence. "You're hurting yourselves."

Lance is silent.

"Speak up, Keith," Acxa urges.

Keith inhales. "I'm..."

"You're not happy."

Lance's eyelids slide closed. "I'm sad to lose you," he says, and it totally derails Keith from the direction he's following Acxa into. "I loved... so many things about being with you."

Keith's glass is empty. He grips it tightly anyway, wishing he could have more without having to get up to pour it.

"But I..."

"You weren't happy," Acxa says. "It is that simple. It doesn't have to be more than that."

"But why-"

"You can't ask people why they're unhappy," Lance says, quiet but bitter, cutting Keith off. "It was - it was suffocating being with you, Keith, trying to match up to you all the time..."

He fades off, lips tightened into a thin line. "No, don't stop," Acxa says firmly. "You need to communicate with each other. And if I have to sit here and force you to say what's on your mind, I have all day."

"It was suffocating," Lance tries again, "trying to match up to your moods, your wants, doing what you wanted all the time, hanging out with people you liked... I can't even... these are all just examples. It wasn't - it wasn't because of all of these little things, it was because of this part of your personality that led to all these things."

And oh, that hurts. That stings.

Because that... that sounds like...

Like Keith can't fix this.

It stings like a slap to the face. That it's in the fundamentals, not in something he fucked up but in how he just is.

"What - do... do you want me to change my entire personality?" is what comes out. "That's just... how I am... I've grown up like that - I can't... can't just _change_ all of a sudden-"

"He's not asking you to change or to explain yourself," Acxa cuts in. "No one is, Keith. You don't need to defend yourself from anyone here."

"I'm just... pointing it out, and I've tried to before but all I wanted was for you to be like, hey, I understand," Lance stresses. He still has half his cranberry juice left in his glass and for some reason that's annoying Keith. "And I'll try to be more mindful. That's all I wanted from you. But every time I'd try to point it out you'd make it all about you and it was just - just so... redundant. It was this constant _cycle_ -" Lance is turning the glass around and around in place "-where I'd try to point something out and you'd turn it around and make me feel like shit - and this would happen _every time_ we argued about _anything_. So I figured it out, eventually, that I was better off looking after my own happiness. I needed to get unstuck."

Keith stutters, trying to defend himself, trying to explain why it was like that - "but that's not - why couldn't you say it like this before? How am I supposed to know how much anything is bothering you if you don't - if you don't-" and, wow, it's the wrong thing to say and even _Keith_ can tell.

"Because then you just get angry, just like you are now! You say you want me to tell you when I'm bothered by something but instead of fixing it you just get butthurt over it. I want you to stop being so fucking defensive and just try to understand, for once!"

"Keith," Acxa says gently. "Just listen. Just try to listen to him."

"It's not like he ever has before, what makes you think he'll drop everything to do it now," Lance bites out, running a hand through his hair, expression irritated.

Keith takes a deep, steadying breath. Padme returns and nuzzles up to his ankles. The angrier he lets himself be, the more he's just proving Lance's point. "No, I'm... I'm listening."

Lance just closes his eyes and shakes his head slowly, looking suddenly exhausted like he's on the verge of collapse. "I was _unhappy._ It was good for so long until it wasn't. Until we got close enough and I figured out that - the kind of person you were by nature - just wasn't - I couldn't - we're not. This is never going to go away. We're always going to be ... different."

"You're not that different," Acxa says gently. "You're really not. And no two people are going to be exactly alike, Lance."

"Look-" Acxa's mouth twists a little as Keith interrupts her, but he keeps going. "The way I see it... I've learned to accept that you're different. That doesn't mean I enjoy it when we clash but - your cockiness and your flirting and your immaturity are all part of what what make you _you._ That doesn't mean I absolutely enjoy it but they're part of you and I love _you._ "

"This is-"

"I tolerate it all the time without even thinking that it's something that needs tolerance," Keith pushes on. "So I don't... understand why you can't seem to give me the same treatment."

"I just _thought,_ " Lance says, "that if you were acting in a way that was hurting someone you cared about, you would try to fix it. But I guess that's not even possible - considering you don't even see anything wrong with it."

That's what sort of hits the nail on the head. Because... okay, well, the things Lance has said, yeah, he sees what's wrong with it. But if Lance doesn't ever fucking _tell_ him…

Like. There's a shitton of tiny stuff Lance does that makes Keith feel like shit and that Keith doesn't tell him off for. Things like how Lance imitates his laugh mockingly sometimes, or takes a picture of Keith when he isn't looking and laughs at it. Times at which Lance laughs at Keith in general - it doesn't always feel as goodnatured as it probably should.

But it's not like Keith holds that against Lance in any way? Because he never told Lance. So how would Lance know to stop? And he never told Lance because it wasn't a big fucking deal. Just passing moments.

But then _again -_ he reminds himself that... that this is a big deal. What Lance is saying is a big deal because it drove him to break up with Keith.

Honestly... it's just that Keith's having a really fucking hard time wrapping his mind around the fact that he's just... that it's a _part of him_ that makes them supposedly incompatible - that it's not a mistake on his part but an incongruence between the two of them.

Honestly it's so much harder to work around this than to work around the possibility that maybe he was just doing something wrong. Because he... despite everything. He really doesn't want to lose Lance.

"Do you want to fix it?" Acxa presses quietly after the silence has thickened to something uncomfortable. "Do you want to stay part of each other's life?"

"Yeah," Keith says without even thinking about it.

Lance looks up at Keith, face turned down but blue eyes raised. "... No."

And it feels like Keith's heart stops.

"I just want to move on."

And it's a _new_ kind of distress - the realization that - that it's not even bad enough that Lance has a problem with part of what's ingrained in Keith as a person. But that Lance... doesn't even _want_ him anymore. Doesn't even want to try. The realization that Keith's let whatever this is fester for so long that... that Lance is done.

 _Actually_ done.

And that's when it really _really_ sinks in that they just... are not a couple. They broke up. They're a thing of the past.

And Keith doesn't want to do this anymore. Doesn't want to sit at this table with Acxa forcing them to figure out their problems. Wants to crawl into bed and ignore it - god damn he _hates_ sitting here. He doesn't want to do this.

"Well, I'm sorry, Lance," Acxa says then, "but... your actions prove otherwise."

"It's not my fault I'm in love," he says while Keith sits back and processes everything. The sound is defeated, broken - honest and heartwrenchingly raw. And almost regretful.

"You're not being fair to me with the whole friends with benefits thing," Keith says, and it's lame - God, it's so fucking lame, he doesn't even know why he keeps talking.

"You haven't been fair to me for a very long time," Lance returns.

"I'm sorry!"

"Not to mention you _are_ the one who started this. You know, after a certain premiere."

"It was a mistake," Keith says, voice breaking. "And I apologized. But... but you continued it." He knows he's latching onto the only point Acxa has made against Lance, digging his fingers into it desperately like it'll carry him to the end of the conversation where it turns out he's right. And he knows... that that's. Not fair. But he can't... it's not like she's _wrong,_ either. It's not fair of Lance to say all this shit about how uncomfortable he is with Keith and how unhappy he is with Keith - and then... lead him on like this, in a way.

"Well, I'm stopping it," Acxa says firmly. " _Neither_ of you are being fair." How is he not being fair?? "And this is hurting both of you. It's going to take time for you to move past this but you _can._ And I really do feel like you both still want to. So... I'm going to try to help you."

Lance pulls in a long breath, blowing it all out in one huff. "Pidge said... that if I was always feeling so bad all the time, if I was always worried about messing up and ending up fighting with you, that it wasn't a good relationship. She's been against it for... a long time, now. But she got really urgent about it in those last few weeks that we were together and that's kind of what pushed me to do it when I did. But even then - it was still my decision."

"Why do you think she got urgent about it?" Acxa frowns.

Lance shrugs. "I don't know? She just said I had to do it before I lost the option."

And Keith gets it. Because Pidge knew he was going to... to ask Lance to marry him. So.

His chest crushes in on itself.

He finally loses his patience with Lance's cranberry juice - "are you even going to drink that?" he snaps, gesturing angrily at the half empty glass. Lance looks down at it like he's honestly forgotten about it.

"No."

Keith reaches out and grabs it, tipping his head back and downing the contents, slamming the glass back to the middle of the table and slumping down in his seat as Lance watches him critically. He looks pointedly out the window.

"Hey," Acxa says gently. "Hey. It's eight forty. Why don't we just... go out to the mall, get some food. We can spend the day outside. Lance, you can use the bathroom here to freshen up, unless you'd rather be doing something else, but I urge you to stay."

Lance rubs his face with one hand, tilting his cheek into the motion, trying to hide how exhausted he must feel. "Like... a full day long date?"

"Yeah. Let's just spend some time together. As friends. It's good to get yourself out sometimes, especially with other people, and I know for a fact Keith's avoided leaving the apartment for anything but work and seeing you since he moved back here."

Lance inhales deeply and blows it out. "Sure. Not like I have the emotional capacity to focus on work today. Guess we're all ditching."

"Treat yo self," Keith says sarcastically, but it just earns him a light shove on the shoulder from Acxa.

"Go shower," she sighs at him.

* * *

Blood rises to Keith's skin as cold water rolls down his back, washes through his hair, streams down the slopes of his face. It's a dilemma. He doesn't know how the hell to go about fixing it - if Lance doesn't call him out, he can't fucking know when he's doing something wrong.

He needs Lance to call him out.

And the other thing that stings is what Lance said about how he tries to point it out and Keith just gets defensive. He does get defensive. He can't help it. It's in his nature.

So... he needs Lance to call him out and he needs to figure out how to take it without defending himself and proving Lance wrong.

Fuck, it's hard.

* * *

_"Fuck, this is hard," Keith scowls, throwing the controller to the floor as the shitty old-timey pixel animations parade around his character's death._

_"That's what she said," Lance sings teasingly from where he's comfortably sprawled over the sofa. Keith turns to glower up at him._

_"Hey, kid, where are your parents? Shouldn't you be in school right now? Want me to show you the way to junior high?" Keith spits it out at a degree of sarcasm higher than his usual before turning his glare back to the screen and crossing his arms._

_"Babe."_

_Fucking pixel dragons._

_"Baaaaaaabe."_

_Lance slides off the sofa and comes over on his knees, bending down to wrap his arms around Keith's shoulders and pulling him backwards. Keith huffs and lets him lay them both back, staring up at Lance, who props himself up with an elbow. "What."_

_Lance brings his face close so their noses rub against each other. "You're cute when you get mad," he murmurs._

_Keith closes his eyes and tilts his chin up and away stubbornly. Lance follows him regardless, placing one hand on Keith's other side to support himself as he seeks after Keith's nose, pressing his lips to it._

_"Baaaaaaaaaabe," he says again, smiling as he noses against Keith's cheek, and Keith can't help it - he falls into a laugh._

_"Damn it, Lance," he giggles. "Let me be upset over your stupid game."_

_"Mm-mm."_

_Keith brings one hand up to Lance's waist and the other up to his neck. Lance takes the cue and swings one leg over, sitting up and smiling stupidly down at him, grabbing his hands and lacing his own into them._

_Then he leans down and lets their lips meet, soft and slow, gentle kisses that bring Keith's heart fluttering out of his chest._

* * *

He steps out of the shower, hair still wet, and nods to Lance, who's gripping one of Keith's bigger shirts tightly in his hand. Usually Keith loves seeing Lance in his clothes because they stretch over his shoulders and hug his waist, but now... well, he'll still love it, but he imagines it'll be a lot more painful.

He winds up being right.

Acxa just needs to change out of her pajamas and fix her hair, and then Keith's driving them all to the mall. Lance leans forward from the backseat and picks something up out of the cupholder, studying it for a moment. He holds it up higher to grab Keith's attention at the next red light.

Keith's eyes flick over, and his heart sinks. It's a pack of Camels he picked up from the store over the weekend, two cigarettes left inside. He grabs it out of Lance's grip with some fumbling - Lance obviously doesn't want to let it go - and shoves it into his coat pocket, but Lance's hand remains floating in the air.

"Keith," he says pointedly. "Explain." He slaps his hand down on the cupholders.

"Nothing to explain," he says gruffly.

"Have you been smoking?" Acxa asks cautiously.

Keith shrugs noncommittally. "I don't know..."

"What do you mean you don't know?" Lance demands. "You either have or haven't been."

Keith just frowns as the light turns green.

"Unbelievable," Lance mutters, leaning back. "Dude."

"It's not a big deal," Keith huffs. "I know how to take care of myself, and I know the risks. I'm not some dumb high school kid."

"Keith, we're not saying that," Acxa reminds him. She has that voice again - gentle but firm. "We're just asking."

Keith breathes in and blows out a steadying breath. "Yeah."

The silence afterwards is unbearable, so Keith slaps the button to turn the radio on and the car fills up with some loud mattress advertisement.

"Nordstrom," Acxa suggests as they pull into the parking lot.

"Lance may be rich and famous, but we're piss poor," Keith reminds Acxa. Not exactly true, but he definitely doesn't have enough spare money sitting around to splurge at Nordstrom.

"One outfit," Acxa pushes. "We're each buying at least one outfit."

Keith glances back to get Lance's opinion. The man just shrugs. "Fine with me."

Keith just rolls his eyes and parks.

Keith has never been shopping with Acxa. She shops way differently than the way Lance and he shop, and while he's never particularly cared for shopping, he has to admit this is... fun. She has hawk eyes for discounts and clearance items and she knows Keith's fashion style like the back of her own hand; she loads him up with shirts and nice Levi's and sends him off to the fitting room within the first half hour, before turning to Lance and finding things for him.

It takes Keith another hour just to get through everything she keeps shoving at him, finally picking navy jeans, a white shirt, and a dark saturated blue flannel to walk out in.

His instant gratification? Lance's eyebrows shooting up to his hairline, the blatant way his eyes travel up and down appreciatively. Acxa nods and asks him to turn, suggests a size smaller for the flannel. Lance actually _smiles_ when Keith comes out wearing it a size smaller, which - okay. Yeah, Keith should come shopping with Acxa more often.

Because shopping with Acxa means he looks good. And shopping with Acxa also means Lance looks good, coming back out of the dressing room with white jeans and a thin black and white striped hooded shirt, pushed up at the sleeves to his elbows. He looks good.

It's something like eleven when Acxa finally gets a turn to try on stuff for herself, and Keith and Lance are no help because she quite honestly looks stunning in everything. She eventually settles on dark jeans with a coral top that contrasts with the blue ombré of her hair, and all in all between the three of them they've bought $420 worth for $250.

Lance finds this incredibly funny. He grabs their receipts and double checks the numbers for original price - $50 for the flannel, $25 for the white t-shirt, $60 for the Levi's, $65 for the striped hoodie, $70 for the white jeans, $80 for the orange top, $70 for the women's jeans.

And yeah. Keith has to admit, that's pretty amusing.

"Lunch?" Acxa sighs at them as they finally leave Nordstrom.

"Mm," Lance nods, smile just starting to fade. "Wait, wait, I'm gonna change into this. Man, the quality is nice." He redirects to the bathroom. "I'll just meet you guys at the food court," he says.

Acxa nods. "Panda?" Keith suggests.

"Let's go," she agrees.

* * *

"How are you?"

Keith frowns, fiddling with his chopsticks rather than eating with them. "I don't know."

"I'm proud of you for at least letting him know he wasn't being fair to you with your relationship now," she says slowly. They're in this nice corner of the court, up near the wall-to-wall windows that look out over the massive parking lot. "But you're going to have to explain it to me. Because I was under the impression you both agreed to it."

"I-" hm. "Kind of...." his words are slow. "He- well. After the premiere, I went home with him, and we... yeah. I don't think he really wanted to. And I realized it was a fucked up thing to do so I apologized, but then after work Monday we went to the beach and it happened again - only this time I wasn't really - expecting it, I guess? But he like - bound my wrists and went ahead with it and-"

"Wait," Acxa says, eyes narrowing critically.

"I know how it sounds - but it wasn't that bad because we've done it loads of times before, when we're mad or in the mood-"

"When you're _mad?_ "

"It's not-"

"You think that's _okay?_ "

Okay, see, when she asks it like that it makes it sound not okay.

"You weren't expecting it. I'm assuming that means he didn't ask. It doesn't matter if you said you were okay with it just two days prior - he needs to ask and make sure you're okay with that."

Keith rolls his eyes. "I know how consent works-"

"Then why does there seem to be none of it here?"

That hits hard. Because... if he's honest, he didn't. Really want it? And it felt so fucking good - but he didn't want... his hands bound. Not that time. Not... not _really._

"I was okay with it," he says lamely.

"That doesn't make his actions okay, because he didn't take your explicit yes," Acxa says firmly. She leans back. "Your relationship is _fucked up,_ Keith."

Wow, if that doesn't make him feel like shit.

Acxa shakes her head at herself. "It's okay. I'm glad... that you stepped up and called him out for it today."

Keith sighs. "It's... really... hard... for me to. To say sorry..."

She raises one eyebrow gently in questioning.

"It's so hard for me to even recognize in the first place that I'm wrong, and then after that it's really hard for me to apologize for it because - I don't know, because I'm - afraid, or something."

"Afraid..."

"Afraid, egoistic, I don't. I don't want people to leave me, and if I fuck up they leave me. So _admitting_ I fucked up... I'd rather just silently fix it, I don't want to _apologize_ for it. Why does it even matter so much to people? It's just five letters - and people put so much worth into it."

"Maybe because," Acxa says, "like you said. It's hard to say it."

Keith frowns. "I just don't-..." he trails off because Lance has just waved at them and is walking over, dressed in his new clothes and holding a tray of Italian food. And he looks good, and Keith... Keith genuinely loses his train of thought, sitting up straighter as Lance comes closer.

"You look good," he compliments roughly, to which Lance returns an eyebrow raise and a hesitant smile.

"Thanks," he says.

They're getting ice cream from a Dippin’ Dots when Acxa gets a call and excuses herself. Keith picks up her ice cream for her and they take a table nearby, the silence between them thick.

"Do you remember..." Keith says hesitantly, "all the good times we had together?" Because he needs to know. Doesn't care how small and vulnerable he sounds. Needs to ground himself so he doesn't get lost in the feeling of inadequacy.

Lance stares down into his ice cream, spooning some into his mouth and waiting for a minute before responding. "Of course I do..." he mumbles, voice soft and kind of broken. And Keith can tell he - he still loves him. Lance still loves him and Keith still loves Lance and it's all just bullshit.

"I'm sorry I wasn't enough for you," he says, a little more strongly but volume still soft.

Lance shakes his head. "It's not that. You were... too much for me."

Acxa returns, dragging a third chair over to drop into the conversation. "Ezor called," she says. "She was asking where I was. Apparently she came to work looking to surprise me." Acxa frowns.

Keith chuckles a little. "That's sweet of her."

"Hm," Acxa acknowledges. "Well. She invited us to a party at her place. It's this weekend."

"Oh, fun," Lance says, perking up immediately, genuine sparkle in his eyes. Keith frowns a little. Ezor... is one of the bigger actresses in the industry. A party at her place would include. A lot of people. And that's not really one of Keith's... hm.

Hm.

* * *

One of the things Lance did while he was together with Keith was stop going to parties as often. Keith realizes it now. Catches it in the subtle way he finds himself about to let Acxa know he and Lance won't be coming. And sure, Keith started going to parties more often, but he seriously kept Lance away from a lot of them. Especially the big ones, like the one at Ezor's place this weekend.

Because Lance _loved_ parties. Still does, still loves absolutely everything about them, judging by how he and Acxa jump right back into shopping for formal attire to wear to Ezor's place. He's excited enough that he even helps pick something for Keith, who isn't even sure he's _going_ yet. Probably _isn't_ going.

But Lance loves parties. He revels in the music, the dancing, the drinking, the flirtatious atmosphere. He's alive amidst the attention. Everything in him thrives for the fancy clothes, the expensive alcohol, the loud chaos, the faces both familiar and unfamiliar. And Keith forced him to step away from that life significantly, urging him to stay at home with Keith instead, or to go to a bar with just Keith.

He remembers now a handful of choice parties where he tried hard to convince Lance not to go and eventually found himself with arms crossed in the doorway, watching Lance walk out. Lance never came back happy on those instances. No matter _who_ was throwing the party.

He realizes it now, watching Lance get all hyped about Ezor's.

And god, it hurts, guilt and regret weighting down his heavy heart.

* * *

Pidge is exactly the same when they visit her that evening. _Exactly_ the same. It shouldn't jar Keith to see her in the same position as before, still except for her gently rising and falling chest, but it does and it hurts and he wants her back.

Lance leaves for the bathroom and Keith looks up at Acxa. "Can I have some time alone?"

She nods, standing and graciously walking out.

He just watches Pidge for a bit, before reaching out and taking her hand. "I... I feel like I might be starting to figure out why you did what you did."

Obviously, no response.

"But damn it, Pidge, it would be so much easier if you were just here to tell me what I'm doing wrong." Keith scowls as he tries to articulate his emotions. "I need you. I need to fucking - yell at you and figure out what the hell Lance meant when he texted you asking why you told him to break up. I have the same fucking question - Jesus Christ."

He inhales shakily.

"What were you even doing?" he demands. "You're too young for bullshit like this. You're like... twelve. Need to save up money to pay off your student loans, dumbass, not your life insurance."

The monitors just sit there. Her hand is just warm. Her face is just quiet. He's talking to the air.

"I miss you," he sighs. "And I miss Lance, and it's all your damn fault." He screws his eyes shut against the moisture that threatens, dropping her hand. He can't find an ounce of anger toward her while she's lying there in that gown.

He grits his teeth and lets the tears roll for all of two seconds before he stands and furiously dries them off on his shirt.

Stupid. He's stupid.

She'll be fine.

He doesn't even know what he's crying about.

* * *

Thursday at work Lotor leaves him, surprisingly, more or less alone. There's some chastising at the very beginning when he arrives, but he works hard and gets Lotor's hospital scene done and has the set up and ready for filming by the end of the day.

Which also means he's dead exhausted.

Which means he skips out on seeing Pidge even though it's one of the biggest things on his mind.

Which means he doesn't find himself crying in her hospital room again. So. Maybe it's good.

* * *

_"They're naming her Alena," Lance says, something soft and fond in his voice._

_"Pretty name," Keith comments, wincing as oil from the wok flies up and sparks off his finger._

_"Could you maybe pretend like you actually care?"_

_Keith looks up. "What? Of course I care. Your sister had a baby. Great for her. Seems kind of young, but she's probably happy."_

_"Wow," Lance says flatly. "I appreciate how insensitive that was. Really speaks to how much you don't respect her."_

_Keith shrugs helplessly. "Look, I don't even know how to feel about this family stuff. I'm happy for her! Really! Personally I don't think having a baby sounds like much fun - and that's like. My entire opinion, right there."_

_Lance shakes his head. "You're full of shit, Keith."_

_Keith throws his hands up in the air. "What? What am I doing wrong? What else do you want from me?"_

_Lance turns on the TV._

_Keith hits his hand on the wok in his absentmindedness. The burn takes a good month to heal._

_Alena really really likes it when he holds her._

_Lance's sister is twenty-two. Single mom._

_Keith doesn't attend her baby shower. It’s one of those choice parties where Lance goes without him after they argue about it for a while._

_And Alena really really likes him._

_He doesn't know how to handle it._

_He shoves off her affections as much as he can._

_And gradually._

_Gradually she stops really really liking him so much._

* * *

Keith really misses Alena. She's... three now? Or something? Maybe four?

Lance is her favorite.

He can't remember the last time she even acknowledged him.

Another regret.

* * *

When he gets home Thursday night Acxa's on her laptop, some celebrity news channel playing muted on the tv. He frowns when he sees the image displayed on screen, searching around for the remote as he sets his bag down. "Acxa? Where's the remote?" he asks.

"Hmm."

He spots it sticking out from under her hip and grabs it, Acxa jumping at the contact. It takes him another ten seconds to angle the remote the right way to unmute the tv. Because the image on the screen is one of Lance and him kissing in the bar last Tuesday.

"-vorite sci-fi star is bisexual."

"His boyfriend Keith is a successful set-designer. How the two met and how long they've been together is a mystery, but it could explain McClain's actions at a certain premiere afterparty last year." The new image on screen is of Nyma pressing herself up against Lance, mouth on his as he's shoving her away. "Popular co-stars Nyma and Lance McClain, long thought to be an item, stirred up a lot of controversy when this photo made it out-"

"What the hell are you watching?" Keith asks, bewildered.

Acxa's frowning at the screen, biting her lip. "What... is all of this? Why does the press think you're together?"

"-long distance relationship, and a homosexual one at that - what, do you think they'll tough it out through the shoot in Germany?"

"McClain, as we all know, is still very much playing the market. I don't know, guess we'll see."

Keith groans. "The... the hospital. We had to say we were Pidge's family to see her, so I said I was adopted and Lance said we were together."

"And now your relationship is in the open... after you broke up," Acxa says.

Keith shuts off the tv. "Yeah."

"Wow... and what about this Germany shoot? And I don't remember anything about him and Nyma, what's the deal with that..?"

Keith frowns. "I have no idea what they're talking about with the Germany shoot. And Nyma... it was last year, I don't know. Lance and I fought about it for a long time. Basically, she kissed him. So... I was jealous."

Acxa shakes her head slowly. "Okay."

Keith pinches the bridge of his nose between his fingers. "I'm just - let. I'm going to sleep. I'm so tired. I'm sorry."

Acxa's frowning. "Rest well, Keith," she says distractedly.

* * *

Friday is much the same. Keith finds Lance between scenes and asks him about the Germany shoot the newscasters were talking about.

"Oh, yeah," Lance mutters, reaching up to rub his temple, other hand on his hip. The makeup artist makes him look so young for this movie, Keith honestly never gets used to it. "I got this role... auditioned for it, uh... not too long ago, actually. But we're shooting all winter in Germany. So I'll be working there for about five months."

"Oh," Keith says nonchalantly after a pause.

Lance gives him a pained smile before taking another swig of his water bottle. Keith leaves him alone.

* * *

He's working with this intern named London while Pidge recovers, and honestly - she's stupid as fuck. And _flirty_ as fuck. Like... he met her last Tuesday, and Friday afternoon she's already sliding up next to him on the lunch table and batting her brown eyelashes and asking if she can try his ramen.

"It's ramen," he says, "I'm sure you've had some before."

"I just want to tryyy..."

He sighs and hands her the fork, because - okay, she does have a pretty good sense of aesthetics and stagecraft. When she's not hitting on him. And she's all he has unless he wants to deal with all the set bullshit by himself. And honestly it's kind of a big deal that Lotor even got her in the first place.

She places the fork in her mouth and slides it out from between tightly pressed lips, slowly sucking in the noodles. She smiles at him and hands the fork back after chewing slowly, and says, "it's nice."

"I'm not sure it counts as a compliment when all I did was boil water," Keith says, taking the fork back and refraining from wiping it on a napkin.

She smiles and closes her eyes anyway. "Well then I must say your water boiling skills are superb."

Keith snorts. "What a compliment."

She grins at him.

Keith's liked maybe three girls his entire life. The first one was this girl named Abby he would hang out with in elementary school all the damn time. After he moved on from her it was this one assistant teacher who only spoke Spanish in his school - and his only other memory of being even remotely romantically interested in a girl was this one girl named Rho he lost his virginity to in senior year of high school.

So this - it's highkey kind of weird. And he's still highkey a sucker for Lance. And Acxa is probably highkey judging London from where she silently eats her sandwich across from Keith.

She wraps one arm around his waist and leans into him, laying her head on his shoulder, when there's a loud crash from the set and his head whips around.

"Hey, Keith," Lance is calling. "We need you, I tripped and messed up the set." Keith groans and rises, extricating himself from London's limbs.

"I'll come too," she says, looping her arm through his.

"I said _Keith,_ " Lance says impatiently when they get there. "We don't need you here, London, Keith's the set director." London lets Keith pull out of her grip as he grumbles and fixes the monitors’ positioning.

"We need a new IV," he scowls, holding up the leaking packet.

"Wait," London mutters. She nudges up next to Keith and switches a couple monitor positions. "This looks clearer."

"Can you maybe leave?" Lance scowls.

Keith raises his eyebrows. "Can _you_ maybe leave?" he says to Lance instead. "She's right. Thank you, London."

London smiles and bumps him with her hip. Keith stumbles a little, sitting down on the bed, which apparently is a cue for London to lean over him with one hand on the bed on either side. Which is... huh. Well.

"Can I talk to you, Keith?" Lance asks in a falsely cheerful voice.

Keith shifts. "Yeah."

"Get out, London."

London smiles before rising and going back to the table where Acxa is watching them from.

"What are you doing?" Lance hisses.

"Just enjoying myself," Keith says coolly. He knows what makes Lance jealous. And he's not really proud of himself for using that right now. But... well, it does feel good.

"We're together according to everyone in the media right now," Lance points out. "I don't really give a shit if you and her want to get all comfy with each other, just maybe not in public. Yeah? At least until Pidge is out."

Keith just stares at him, arms crossed. "Yeah, whatever," he mumbles.

Lance's eyes flick to where London is watching them. Without warning he grabs Keith's waist and pulls him in for a kiss, slipping in his tongue like he's starving for him.

Keith lets out an actual gasp at the sudden movement, fumbling to get his grips as Lance just deepens the kiss.

Someone whistles.

Keith's flushing.

Lance pulls away with a long, slow drag of his tongue against Keith's. He flashes him a smile and turns, heading back to where his script lies disregarded on the table he was eating at. Keith takes a moment to steady the dizzying tilt of his world as he looks back to Acxa.

Her face is unreadable.

And the thing is - it doesn't discourage London in the slightest. Just the opposite, actually - she seeks him out before he's about to leave, pushes him toward the dressing rooms, boldly and sensually capturing his lips with hers.

And he hates himself for not pushing her away.

Hates himself for figuring out her grand plan of action in a split second and still not stopping.

Hates himself for letting her push him right past Lance's dressing room, sighing his name into his mouth.

Hates himself because he realizes that he _wants_ to make Lance jealous.

And that's fucked up.

And it makes the news.

And the newscasters spew some homophobic bullshit about how gay relationships are rocky territory to even begin with. About how Lance and Keith are just sexually frustrated.

And Lotor fires London but tells Keith off like it's all Keith's fault. And it is.

And Lance is clearly very very upset with him judging from his expression as he breaks London away from Keith.

And Keith's living a nightmare.

* * *

"You," Acxa says firmly, pointing to the trending twitter news, "are reckless, Keith."

"It’s a gift," he scowls.

"This isn't okay."

"Maybe London is a nice girl."

"Do you feel good going around kissing nice college girls while you and Lance are in love? Is that helping you fix things?" Acxa demands.

Keith groans and stands to move to his room, trying to shut his door behind him, but Acxa slams her palm into it and it flies back out of his hands into the doorstopper.

"Are you proud of yourself? Do you like feeding the media and staining your reputation? It's really helping your situation with Lance, isn't it?"

"I know you're angry with me," he says with gritted teeth. "But I really don't want to hear this right now."

"Well you have to hear it!" Acxa snaps. "Aggression and impulsivity seems to be the only thing that works with you. So you're coming to Ezor's party with me tonight, and you're taking Lance as a date."

Keith makes a disgusted face at her, which immediately shrinks back at the icy rage that roils beneath her skin.

"And stop trying to make things worse. The goal is to get better, not to create more distance," she scowls.

Keith slams the door as soon as she steps back enough to allow him to do so.

And then he sulks.

* * *

"Lance," he mumbles. "Be my date to Ezor's party?"

He winces.

Why does he have to do this.

"Why? Not taking London?" The reply comes after a curious pause.

"No," Keith says curtly. He glances at Acxa again, but she's pointedly acting like he isn't there.

"Alright. Sure, then."

"... Okay." He hangs up. "I did it. Okay now?"

"Slightly better," Acxa says. Then she looks up from her phone. "I can't be in charge of your relationship, though, you know that, right, Keith?"

Keith frowns. "I wasn't really hoping that you would be."

"I'm just trying to stop you from both destroying yourselves over this. But this is your problem to solve."

Keith roughly cards a hand through his hair. "Yeah, I know." He doesn't _want_ to deal with it, though, which Acxa is making him do, and then telling him he has to do by himself. He just wants things to go back to the way they were.

Which can't happen.

* * *

He picks Lance up at six thirty because Lance is the type of person who arrives early and leaves late. And Keith'd feel really guilty if he kept Lance away from something he enjoys even when they've officially left each other.

This comes as a surprise to Lance, apparently.

"I mean," Keith mumbles, leaning against the doorway. "You like going to parties. I figured if I'm your date, might as well make sure you have a good time, which, for you, means getting you there early."

"I guess," Lance chuckles incredulously. "But you _hate_ parties."

"Not really."

"You get tired easily."

Keith shrugs. "Yeah, well, just get ready."

Lance's eyes move up and down Keith's suit one more time before he turns and strolls wordlessly down the hall to his bedroom.

Keith comes in, shutting the door behind him, eyeing up the apartment. It looks so _bare_ without his shit. He stands with arms crossed near the table and looks out to the balcony.

It takes an hour for Lance to get ready.

They end up late anyway.

Keith wants to laugh at how their positions are reversed and yet they still arrive at the same outcome.

* * *

_“She kissed you?”_

_“It’s not how it sounds, Keith-”_

_“No, I know, it’s fine, but why did she feel like she_ could _in the first place?”_

_“I don’t know! She was drunk. I was drunk.”_

_“Nice to know.”_

_“I wasn’t flirting with her, okay?”_

_“Sure, and that’s why you’re ‘long thought to be an item?’”_

_“It’s the_ press. _What the hell do you want me to…”_

_“... Whatever.”_

* * *

_Lance curls his arms around Keith from behind while Keith cooks. “Babe.”_

_Keith squirms a little to try to urge him to let go - a fruitless endeavor. Gives up. Stirs the noodles like Lance isn’t there._

_“Babe, I’m sorry.”_

_“Nice to know,” Keith says again._

_“Let me make it up to you.” It’s accompanied with a kiss just behind Keith’s ear._

_“No need,” Keith huffs. He turns the heat off and tips the noodles into two bowls, sticking a fork in his and trying to get to the dining table as Lance drags him down._

_“I love you, Keith,” Lance says quietly and happily into Keith’s ear._

_“I don’t.”_

_Lance pulls the bowl from Keith’s hands and sets it on the counter, leaning in to kiss Keith’s cheek. “You don’t have to be jealous…”_

_Keith huffs and closes his eyes, because honestly, how is he supposed to deal with this._

_Lance picks him up and settles on the sofa with Keith on his lap, kissing him all over his face until Keith breaks and laughs. He cracks open an eye to find Lance grinning at him. “I’m sorry, Babe,” Lance says honestly._

_“_ Okay, _” Keith laughs._

_Lance smiles and pulls him in for a full kiss._

* * *

Lance blends easily into the crowd. Keith feels like arm candy while Lance has at it with about 12,000 different colleagues. Ezor finds them about an hour after they get there, and Keith's only half surprised to find Acxa standing at her elbow. She shoots him a smile, pure happiness bubbling just underneath those painted lips. He does his best to return it, trying to focus on the warm exchange between Ezor and Lance.

"Nice to see you again, Lance," Acxa says.

"Likewise," Lance returns amiably. "Did Ezor tell you we're co-starring again? The last round of auditions came out with results just today, Ezor's playing the heroine for _The Berlin Project_."

"Oh," Acxa says, tone just lightly dusted with surprise. "So you'll be accompanying each other to Germany for shooting, then."

Lance hums and holds his hand up to Ezor for a high five. "Best of the best in sci-fi stick together."

Keith stays for another few minutes before he excuses himself and heads for the alcohol. If he's going to be staying here for a while, there's no chance in hell he's doing it sober.

* * *

_"That's Venus," Lance says softly into Keith's hair, pointing up at the sky._

_"Mm, planet of love," Keith teases, but Lance rolls with it seamlessly._

_"You're spot on, Babe," he says, dead serious. "That's the only one that matters to me when you're here. You dull every other star in comparison, and the only thing that can match up to that is my love for you."_

_Keith groans, slapping a hand to his face to hide his blush behind. "That was so terrible. Also, Venus isn't a star, it's a planet, and if we're getting really technical here, Mars is visible to the east right now and that's the planet of anger, which - according to that line - I_ don't _outshine."_

_Lance stifles his laughter. "Well, yeah. You can be a real bitch to deal with sometimes."_

_"Romantic," Keith snorts._

_"But you're also my bitch."_

_Keith groans louder and longer, rolling over to bury his face in Lance's chest._

_Lance's shoulders are shaking with stifled laughter. "The Ursa Minor to my Ursa Major. My North Star. You're Orion, shooting your arrow straight into my heart, but maybe without a belt because I’m slipping you out of it..."_

_"Lance!" Keith laughs, squirming away from Lance's hands as they creep around his belt line. "Jesus Christ. You're awful."_

_"You're supernovic."_

_"That's not a word."_

_"_ Mi estrella. _"_

_Lance is nuzzling into Keith's neck. Keith blows out a breath as Lance abandons his attempt at feeling Keith up in favor of holding him in a vice grip to his chest._

_"You act like you're all irritated, but I know you're a total nerd for space things and you're secretly enjoying this."_

_"Lies."_

_"Mhmm. I'll bet all the other planets in the sky that I'm getting you into bed tonight."_

_"That lowers your chances astronomically. And they were already heading toward negative."_

_Lance chuckles again. "Okay." Then he flips them over and swoops down to press his lips against Keith's, teasing Keith's bottom lip in between his teeth until it pulls a tiny moan from Keith, getting handsy and smoothing his palms down Keith's sides._

_Lance fucks him sweet and slow and lovingly. And Keith's happy. And they're warm in the California August night as they lie there on the roof, wrapped in blankets and light polluted stars and promises._

* * *

He doesn't remember how he got here. All he knows is there's wild laughter and fairy lights and a fountain glowing with light that's changing colors. All he knows is he's lying in the ruins of what might have been a blanket fort when the night was younger, the texture of grass muffled by soft fabric under his body, staring up at the stars. And there's tinny 2000's pop playing from someone's phone. And he's wet.

More precisely, he's crying. Because it was clear and warm like this on that day Lance took him up stargazing on the roof of his brother's house, and he - he can't understand how there are so many things, so many good things, how they went so long, how he was so in love when the whole time he wasn't even making Lance happy.

And that's it.

It's enough to tear him apart.

Kylie Kay is still blubbering next to him about something he's long stopped paying attention to. "It'll be okay, Kylie," he says anyway.

"Keith," she sobs. "I can't stop crying if you don't stop crying."

But he can't stop crying. So he just frowns at her instead, and she breaks down even more.

"My real name isn't even Kylie Kay," she whispers. "It's Lily Fisherman."

Keith wipes some of the moisture off his face. "That's pretty normal in Hollywood."

She starts wailing into the blankets and he turns over on his side so his back is to her, because he wants to just dwell in solace and he doesn't want to talk to her even if - now that Keith knows her real name - he does remember her from high school like she first expected him to.

"Keith? Oh, my god, I've been looking for you for three hours. What the hell are you doing out here?" The voice comes from someone suddenly kneeling down next to him. It pulls more emotions from his chest and he hiccups out his response.

"Watching the stars."

"Oh my god, do you know what time it is? ... I've been worried about you - how much have you been drinking?"

"Too much." It's uncontrollable now. His chest is shaking.

"Keith..."

Keith just sobs. He's not _usually_ a sad drunk. But Pidge is in the hospital and Lance broke up and Lotor's mad at him and Acxa's being stern with him and - and - he just sobs some more, trying to dispel the pain in his chest. "Where were you, Lance?" he cries. "I wanted you here with me. Where did you go?"

"I-... you ran off when I was complimenting Ezor's dress, I couldn't find you after that. I'm sorry..."

"I'm afraid."

"Of what?"

 _That I'm losing everyone._ He shakes his head, throat constricting painfully when he tries to get the words out.

"Hey. Let's get out of here. It's five in the morning, you know that?"

Keith shakes his head again, hiccuping through his sobs.

"Let's get you home."

"Noooo," Keith moans when Lance tries to lift him. "My blanket..."

"It's not your blanket."

"He can take it with him if it makes him feel better."

"I'm so sorry, Ezor, maybe I should go with them and make sure Keith makes it home safe..."

"Don't worry, Acxa, I got him. Ezor, I'll get the blanket back to you at work, yeah?"

"Drive safe, Lance. You're still welcome to stay."

"I think Keith needs to go home. I'll catch up with you later."

"Bye, Lance."

Then Keith's being wrapped in a dark amethyst blanket and lifted into Lance's arms like he weighs nothing. He snuggles in closer, clutching the blanket to his chest. "You're too late," he mumbles into Lance's ribs. "I'm lost in this universe. You left me and I’m lost. Dad said Mom was in the stars but she’s _not_..."

He can’t stop crying.

"Let's go home, Keith."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How did I spit out another 10k chapter so fast? What have I been up to in that short timespan of, like, ten days?
> 
> I started antidepressants! I know that kind of makes the beginning of this fic seem a lot less deep and profound. But gonna be honest, they haven't felt like they're working. I've been kind of feeling like shit for the last two weeks.
> 
> On the bright side, I made a [playlist](https://open.spotify.com/user/yush.yush/playlist/54F1Us5tIohzmSfeRSBavZ) for this fic. So, yeah. Check that out and cry.


	4. poinsettia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy new year lol  
> I love New Years it’s my favorite holiday and the best party of the year. Here’s to 2018

Sunday morning is when it finally fully sinks in how badly Pidge is hurt. Because diffusion theory. He's alone in his apartment wrapped in a blanket that isn't his and sprawled over the bed with one arm and one leg hanging off. Sunday morning is when it sinks in that he fucked up big time and there's no going back. Because diffusion theory. Sunday morning is when it sinks in that Lance's and his paths are diverging. That this is a one way road. That maybe it really is for the better if they both move on.

It sinks in that Keith is really, really immature.

And it's taken this long to fucking sink in because diffusion theory. Because change is gradual. Because people are creatures of habit. Because it takes time to understand things and get used to things.

He wants to fling himself into the sun, his head is hurting so bad. Let all his ions diffuse into the universe like salt. Wants to stop existing so much.

Padme keeps him company.

* * *

**Lance I'm sorry about last night**

_its fine dont worry about it_

_how are you?_

_you missing your parents?_

**?**

_you were talking about them_

**Oh. Sorry... don't remember it that well.**

_its all good_

_lemme know if you need anything though?_

_you sure youre ok and all_

**Yeah I'm fine**

* * *

"Why do you feel like you don't have family, Keith?"

Keith stares up at his ceiling.

"You have me, always. And all your friends still care about you - Lance still cares about you." Shiro's voice is interrupted by someone's screaming - one of the twins, Keith guesses. Then it's back. "You know you can always ask me for anything."

"I know," Keith says nonchalantly. It's just that he's really bugged Shiro enough his entire life. The man is independent, strong, responsible - can't Keith be that himself for a change? Can't Keith fucking grow up and stop crying every problem to Shiro?

"Good thing is I haven't heard much about you and that college intern," Shiro says, graciously taking the cue to change topics. "I guess it's cleared up."

"The media is bullshit."

Silence.

"Shiro?"

"I think Lance would be relieved to finally hear you say that. You've changed a little, Keith."

Keith doesn't know what to say to that. He pretends it doesn't still sting when Lance's name comes up in conversation. "Why would he be relieved?"

"Well... you still do know him better than I ever would. But it seemed to me like he was a little frustrated by how often you'd kind of assess him with influence of how the media assessed him."

Keith frowns. "What do you even mean?"

"I mean every time you brought up something about him that you got information about from an outside source. He always seemed disappointed in that."

"Okay," Keith says dumbly. "I guess."

Shiro laughs. "Yeah, you've changed."

"Kay."

"Do you want to come over later?"

Keith mulls it over. "I don't think so."

"I mean, what are you doing?"

"Set designing."

"All the sets for your movie are done, though. Come have coffee or something."

Keith sighs. "I'm just not in the mood, Shiro."

"Okay." A pause. "I'll talk to you later then, yeah Keith?"

"Yeah." Keith cuts the phone, flopping it down on his chest and blowing out a breath. He _doesn't_ have anything to do. The thought of drawing kind of makes his head hurt. He'd want to visit Pidge, but... same old, same old. She's asleep. He'll end up just sitting there watching her monitors for about half an hour before his restlessness gets the better of him. So... no.

The sound of the door opening brings with it a spark of interest and immense relief for the distraction. He waits for it to close again before finally rolling out of bed, taking a moment to shut his eyes and steady himself against the wall before continuing out the room.

Acxa's dress is slipping off her shoulder. Her eyes are tired and her hair messy - but she has this stupid grin on her face that makes Keith raise an eyebrow in question.

"Stop," she says pointedly, raising her eyebrows to stress the word.

"Stop what?"

"Stop looking at me like that!" It's playful as she drops her keys into her purse and sets it on the kitchen counter against the wall. She runs one hand through her hair subconsciously, which makes Keith smirk a little.

"Have a fun time spending the night at Ezor's house?"

She blushes, but makes a point not to show any outright embarrassment. "I did, actually. It was very nice."

"Hmm. Is she a good kisser?"

Cue deepening of blush. "I wouldn't know. Odd of you to ask that."

"Is it really?"

"Yes." It's a very pointed yes, in that it's not really a yes at all but an _I'm not telling you anything_.

"You could go on a double date with me and Lance."

Acxa inhales and exhales, face on fire. "I'm going to change and shower. Which-" she narrows her eyes in lack of amusement at his rumpled suit. "You should too, Mr. Looking at the Stars."

Keith scowls. "I made a stupid decision."

"Mm. As you do."

He shrugs. "I just feel bad for Ezor and Lance, honestly. Personally I don't care."

She smiles softly at him. "You can talk about your problems instead of drinking them away."

Keith shakes his head. "No, it's not that..." he _has_ talked about his problems. It's just that... he's in love with someone and he doesn't want to live with that constant heartbreak all the time. "You know, I feel like... I can't even be sad around all those people. I have to act like everything's fine. And Shiro and Pidge and Matt and Allura - all of them know we broke up, but when I'm in public? I have to act like everything's one hundred percent fine. And it makes me want to scream."

She places one hand on his shoulder and squeezes. "That's true. You are a terrible liar."

Keith just returns her gaze in silence. She claps him once on the shoulder before stepping past him down the hall to her room. "I'm calling the shower first. You had more than enough time to use it before I got here."

Keith slumps against the war. "Fair."

Padme meows at Acxa from somewhere down the hall - Acxa greets her happily and then she disappears into her room.

Keith sighs, dropping to sit on the floor as Padme comes over to him and nuzzles up against his arm. He lets her into his lap where she curls up into a grey ball of poofy hair, stroking her lightly as she purrs and paws at his thigh.

"Why does life suck, Padme?" he complains. She doesn't even blink. "Yeah. How would you know. You're a cat and Lance loves you and you're clean and showered... three things I don't have."

No acknowledgement.

And Keith is so, so sad.

But he's happy for Acxa, at least. She may not admit it, but she's got it bad for Ezor - and Keith's fairly sure Ezor is at least a little interested in her. So that's nice. And it spreads warm feelings in his chest.

-

He does drop by Shiro's house for an hour out of sheer boredom. Leia and Luna pounce on him the moment he enters the living room, giggling and screaming " _Uncle Keith!_ " and talking about Star Wars.

"Uncle Keith?" Keith raises an eyebrow. "Okay."

"Why is Leia in Star Wars and I'm not?" Luna pouts.

Keith shrugs helplessly. Allura laughs and tugs her daughters away from his legs, motioning Keith to sit down with her head. "Would you like some coffee, Keith?"

"Sure," he accepts, sinking into their couch. Shiro smiles at him, glancing briefly his way before his eyes return to he screen. "What is that?"

"Uncharted 2."

"Mm." Keith observes the screen as Nate takes out one of the enemies with a perfect headshot. "Nice." Shiro smiles impishly in acknowledgment.

And then he dies. "My turn!" Luna crows, stealing the controller and dropping into her father's lap. Shiro groans and leans back until he's lying on his back, legs still crossed under Luna. He rolls his eyes over to Keith and smiles softly, the expression cut short as Leia shoves some paper in his face to show him.

"Keith, I just told Shiro this - but I'm going to be featured on the shop display for December!"

Keith's eyebrows raise. "Wow - congratulations."

She grins. "It's such an honor."

Keith smiles. "Christmas model. Impressive."

She nods. "They rejected me last year from the Black Friday paper cover, but I think I have a shot this year."

"Good luck."

She beams at him, walking over with a cup of coffee. Keith accepts it with a quick smile and lets the scent waft up to him. It's something citrusy. Allura makes all these fancy fucking drinks she still remembers from her first job as a Starbucks barista. They're always so good. "I'm sure your movie's wrapping up soon," she says. "How is that going?"

Keith nods. "We're finishing up shooting really really soon," he admits. "Hunk's on the editing team, I'll be hanging out with him a lot of the time, probably. Zethrid's lighting Allura, I don't know if you've ever worked with her, but she always knows what I have on my mind."

Allura shakes her head. "You and I both know Lotor's direction is different from mine."

"Oh, yeah, for sure," Shiro laughs, and then something rare and incredible happens.

Leo comes out of his room.

His white hair is tossed back freely, freckles framing his purple-blue eyes. Keith hasn't gotten a good look at this guy in years.

"Dad," he scowls, leaning against the wall, still far from the rest of them, like he's ready to turn and go back at the slightest notice. "I don't get this problem."

"What's it about?" Shiro asks, watching almost pitifully as Luna clears the chapter.

"Physics."

"Everything in physics has an equation."

"I need you to help me, Dad! Not play video games and tell me that I can do it! That's exactly what the teacher does - she's always just 'oh I have faith in you' but none of us know what's going on!"

"Okay, Leo, I'm coming-"

"I just need some adult to help me when I ask for it instead of giving me stupid advice or asking me questions I don't know the answer to because she thinks I'm a lot smarter than I really am."

Shiro stands, pushing Luna off his lap finally. "Leo!" He leaves the room in pursuit of his son, who's on his way back to his room. "Leo, you're very smart. Show me your work. I'll help."

"Have fun," Keith murmurs.

Allura laughs.

* * *

Monday passes uneventfully.

-

As does Tuesday. He visits Pidge anxiously in the evening, but even though the doctors said a week, she's just as deathly still as she's been for the last seven days.

Matt's been crying.

-

Wednesday is only interesting if one counts working six hours more than usual as interesting.

He’s pouring himself into work to avoid dealing with things. He knows it’s a destructive habit. But honestly - he doesn’t feel like doing anything else.

-

Thursday he goes to see a movie with Acxa and Ezor. He considers ditching them, but Acxa threatens him before he can even properly consider the option.

“If you even think about leaving us so we’re forced to be together, I’m never speaking to you again.”

So that’s that. Keith’s fairly sure she was bluffing, but Acxa is hardcore and honest - so he doesn’t really want to take any chances.

But things are reaching a standstill. He’s in stasis.

-

Friday night is when they wrap up shooting. It’s a big relief to Keith - they’ve had to reshoot most of the hospital scenes because the monitors were changed around after Lance knocked them over. But they’re finally through with it - give it another several months for editing, sound, all that fun, and they’re done.

Which is a good thing, because honestly, Keith has kind of grown sick of this movie. And Narti’s a genius writer in the way that she can turn the lamest plotline into actual literature, but... god, he wants to be done with all of this.

He also wants to work with Allura again. She’s imaginative and while she has a taste for more of the aesthetics than the showiness, which is what Lotor prefers, he gets to work a lot more on subtleties and intricacies Lotor just doesn’t care for. And he likes that. It’s calming in its own way.

Friday night is also when Pidge wakes up.

* * *

It comes in the form of a text that lights up his phone in the darkness of the room. He’s drawing, focused, tablet screen the only other source of light, dressed in his pajamas, one hundred percent in the zone. But he immediately glances over because he only has notifications on for a couple people - and the name Lance McClain is the contact name of one of those people.

He picks up the phone, fingers weaving around his pen as he stares at the screen, the three words there that take a moment to process.

_Pidge is awake_

His breath stills, shallow, and then he’s moving: changing into jeans, saving his work - which he hasn’t done since he started, yikes - pulls on a light jacket, stuffs his phone into his pocket, checks for his wallet, grabs his keys.

When he gets there the nurse takes unnecessary interest in him. He ignores his question about dating the famous Lance McClain as he leads him to the room, pushes past him when he sees Pidge sitting up, propped up with pillows, face looking kind of pale as she spoons an ice cube into her mouth from a plastic cup.

He breaks into a smile, stepping into the room, glancing briefly around at Matt and Lance and then back to Pidge. “You absolute fucker, don’t do that again,” he laughs in a hollow voice.

She smiles tiredly at him. “Damn. My plans are spoiled.”

“ _Good,_ ” Keith says pointedly, stepping closer and leaning in for a hug - more of a brush of the arms around her, because she makes no move to lift off the pillows. “Kids these days.”

Some more mirth bleeds into her smile, chasing away the exhaustion, and he’s glad for that. “Alright, alright, what have I missed in your life, Anakeith?”

Keith pulls up a chair so he can sit. “Shiro’s kids are crazy.”

Lance snorts. “I said what have I _missed,_ ” Pidge laughs. “Not what do I already know.”

Keith hums. “Padme-“

“Oh god.”

“- has decided this spot right between the couch and the coffee table is the perfect place to lie around and hiss at people who almost step on her on their way to sit down.”

“Hey, don’t diss my girl,” Lance protests playfully. “She is a queen. You’re infringing on the property of her throne.”

“I am _paying rent_ for her throne,” Keith says.

“Taxes are the worst, man, but you just gotta accept it,” Pidge shrugs.

Keith scoffs. “You’re defending her now? The bane of your existence?”

Pidge snickers. “No, you’re just too fun to tease.”

Keith smiles. “God, I missed you, Catapidge,” he says softly.

She grins back at him. “You also missed Ezor’s party and Keith getting shitfaced,” Lance says, voice lilting with amusement.

Keith groans. “Christ.”

“Keith,” Matt says, smiling but pretending like it’s a serious issue. “Watch your alcohol consumption.”

Pidge snorts. “You impulsive shitlord.”

“For the record,” Keith says, trying to defend himself. “I was extremely bored and the alcohol was very nice quality. It’s not like I love parties, anyway, I don’t know what you expected.”

“Some self control,” Pidge says.

“You weren’t even there!”

She laughs weakly. “Alright. M’tired. Leave me alone.”

“You just slept for ten days,” Lance points out. Pidge just shoots him the bird.

But Keith’s happy. Really, really happy, and after so much shit in his life it just feels... so... _nice._ Just so fucking nice.

* * *

_”High school is so hard,” Keith whines, slumping over on his chair. “Fuck IB.”_

_“You’ll be fine,” Pidge says. “Maybe if you studied instead of fangirling over Anakin Skywalker? You’d be doing better in your HL’s.”_

_“You don’t get it,” Keith sighs miserably. “You know how to study. You’re in ninth grade. You don’t know shit about what IB is like - and you can’t seem to see how fucking hot that guy is.”_

_Pidge sighs. “You’re just like him. Anakeith Skywalker, my padawan, focus on your studies you must. Give in to your emotions and find you, failure will.”_

_“Stop,” Keith groans. “All wrong. So wrong. I am so ready to swing a lightsaber through my entire school and everyone in it, I get where he was coming from now.” He frowns and looks over at Pidge, still bent over her physics book. “Anakeith is a stupid name.”_

_“Well now I’ll never stop calling you that.”_

_“Then I’m gonna call you Catapidge, because having you in my life is a catastrophe.”_

_“That sounds like a stretch.”_

_“Is anastrophe a thing?”_

_“Yes, it is, you chemistry nerd, it’s when you switch the subject and verb of a sentence, which brings us back to Yoda, which brings us back to how you need to study for this history paper two tomorrow.”_

_Keith groans. “I never had to study before the IB. I would just get everything. Intuitively. This is bullshit. I’m dropping out.”_

_“Control your emotions, Anakeith. And that’s how you know the IB is a perfect fit for you. Now study.”_

_Keith turns and groans even louder into his pillow instead._

_“You’re so dramatic.”_

* * *

They’re in a park. The sky’s clear, soft orange and red painted back and forth with nostalgia. The water is glittering and there are koi fish - Keith fucking loves koi fish.

“I guess...” he starts, trying to figure out how best to answer Shiro’s question. “Maybe when I dropped from high school? And... and you had your own apartment and your own job. We were working on two different movies, then, that’s when it really really set in. You were so into Allura and I was still a little young and stupid and I couldn’t really understand how you could care about more than one person at once. So I figured I should let her replace me in your life, cut my losses, build new friendships.

“That’s when I befriended Acxa, too, and that’s how I met Lance - god, we hated each other back then. And I kept talking to Pidge because she was still in school, but somehow - with you I just - I don’t know. It felt like something disconnected and I just... had to move on, or risk getting hurt. And... you and Allura got married and had Leo that same year - your life was going so great, just a steady climb upward, and I was a lame high school drop out working overtime on a movie under some careless boss who didn’t really mentor me all that well... I don’t know. It was rough.

“But, well, as you know... eventually Acxa convinced me to go to college the year she was gonna graduate so... I applied for the next term and found myself back with my graduating class. That’s when... my life started getting better, and I kind of figured out, that... I didn’t really... need you?”

Keith clears his throat.

“Not like that. Wait. No - it was like... like, you know, my life wasn’t over if I didn’t have you in it. That it was still going on. So in college, you know, Lance and I are roommates and we start getting to know each other and he... he... filled that gap I was starting to learn to live around. And it was just so damn good.

“And I guess I just never... like, I matured, but I never really _really_ came back to you until Lance was gone, I guess. So I guess... I guess I’m still the same, then. Can’t figure out how to keep more than one person in my life at a time.”

Shiro nods, watching the passing cobblestones under their shoes, contemplating Keith’s words for a few more seconds before his lips lift in a smile. “Either way, Keith... I’m glad you did come back. And I guess you were right. I wish I could have been there for you, but... and I feel like you know this as well... I guess that part of your life helped shape you a lot.”

Keith lets out a breath. “Yeah, s’ppose it did.”

“And you have changed. You’ve definitely changed. You know how to keep people close to you, you care about more than one person at a time.”

Keith laughs hollowly. “I’m still crying my heart out over Lance.”

“Break-ups tend to be a little sad, Keith.”

“Oh, don’t patronize me.”

“I don’t think you realize this,” Shiro continues. “But Acxa’s worried about you.”

“She’s always worried about me.”

“I know. I don’t talk to her much, really, she’s more of an acquaintance - but I can tell she cares for you a lot.”

“... Yeah,” Keith mumbles. “She does.”

“And you care for her a lot.”

“If you’re trying to suggest-“

“No,” Shiro laughs. “I know you want Ezor and her to be happy. And I know for a fact Ezor is head over heels for her. But I’m just letting you know that... you’re lucky to have her in your life and... she’s lucky to have you in her life. You two need each other.”

Keith smiles. “Yeah, okay.” His eyes trail the koi fish again. “School’s started, huh? How are Luna and Leia?”

“You’ve made them into converts.”

Keith smirks.

“They’re already planning Star Wars outfits for Halloween.”

Keith turns, sparkle in his eyes. “ _I’m_ already planning Star Wars outfits for Halloween.”

Shiro huffs. “You’re a bad influence.”

Keith laughs and looks back to the fish. “I mean how are they doing with school. What are they in, second grade?”

Shiro nods. “New teacher is really understanding. He’s helping them out. Dyslexia’s tough and it’s difficult for me to really help with, but they’re... they’re doing okay.”

Keith smiles softly. “Awesome.”

-

So Keith thinks he gets it now. He gets where his life is going and he gets how things fit in and he gets why Lance broke up with him and he gets what Pidge was trying to do.

He also gets that Acxa is in love with him.

And in a way he’s always been able to tell, but... something in Shiro’s conversation made it all click together and float up into his consciousness. She loves him. And she loves him and that’s why she’s been taking it so slow with Ezor. And Ezor really likes Acxa and Acxa does like Ezor but - but she loves Keith, has for a long time.

But Acxa’s really smart, really grounded all the time - she knows Keith isn’t interested in her and Keith’s fairly certain that her hesitancy with Ezor has less to do with hope for Keith and more to do with respect for Ezor.

Ezor’s new album is a little heartbreaking. And Keith finds himself looping it for the entire weekend, until he finally gets out of it on Sunday to go talk to Pidge.

-

“You’re the reason Lance broke up with me,” is what he says, flat and blunt and to the point as he sinks into the chair by her bed.

Pidge’s face falls, crumples into itself, eyes lowered. “Keith, I... it wasn’t... I’m sorry! It’s just that - neither of you could see what I was seeing...”

“It’s fine,” Keith says quietly. “I... I get it, you know? I didn’t even imagine anything was wrong before, but I was... really pushing him down in that relationship, I guess. Not really... keeping him like an equal. To summarize it.”

Pidge blinks and looks up at him, face still crestfallen. “I... I guess that’s... not exactly how I would put it, but... yeah I... you’re not wrong.”

“So even though-“

“But like, you didn’t even know half of it,” Pidge says suddenly. Something in her tone is desperate, needy. “He was so so so attached to you, so in love with you and so emotionally dependent on you - but you know, it’s Lance, he bottles everything up and shoves it deep down. So it took me forever to figure out, but... his only happiness seemed to stem from being around you. And when he wasn’t around you he wasn’t happy - either because he was sick with anxiety about how you would react to what he was doing, or because he just kept thinking about being with you instead of doing whatever it is he was doing...

“So when he stopped being happy even when he was with you, it was just so fucking much and I’d hoped he would realize it and snap out of it but - but he never did! He was just not happy and he kept not even realizing it.

“And you. You were... honestly just as obsessed, but in a different way. You do this thing where you single out one person in your life to be the one person you trust and... life doesn’t really work that way, you know? Your friendships aren’t like ionic bonds where you’ve got your one person and you’re just mildly inclined to hang around the others - they’re a fucking covalent network. Okay? Metallic bonds - you’re closer to some people than you are to others but you have to stay connected. You have to stay pliant.”

“Well, thanks for the chemistry analogy,” Keith jokes quietly.

“Yeah but I’m serious. You were making Lance into your everything and I knew it was going to break you at the slightest rejection and - I don’t know. It was just so, so, so wrong. And I care about you and I didn’t want - you would have proposed and he would have said yes but you just weren’t emotionally _ready_ and... I’m so, so sorry, I should have talked about it, I know asking you guys to break up was wrong but I just - oh, man, I...”

“Heyyy,” Keith says calmly. “I’m... still processing everything you just said, actually, because that’s not what I came to realize over this past week or so at all, but... you’re fine. It... we’ll work it out.”

“You’re not pissed at me?”

Keith’s eyes trail over the scars that still mark Pidge’s face. “Jesus, Pidge. I’m mad. But I get it. And I’m mad at myself too, I guess. For... not having my shit together.”

She grins, her eyes watering. “Well, that’s what friends are for.”

He snorts. “Yeah, I guess.”

And it grates at him hard, requires mountainous effort not to jump to defend himself, to just listen and to just accept it and to just try to remember she’s not attacking him but helping him - but it’s softened by the image of Pidge lying there all covered in white and the sterile smell of hand sanitizer and hospital environment.

He smiles at her. “Thanks, Pidge. I missed you.”

Her lips quirk up.

* * *

Lance stands at his door with a sunflower. Keith’s staring at it, a little confused, when Lance grins and slides it into Keith’s hair and lets it rest just above Keith’s ear. “This is why you said you needed to ‘urgently come over,’” Keith says incredulously.

“Yeah. Does it remind you of anything?”

“Um.... it reminds me of sunflowers.”

Lance laughs, so softly, cheeks rosy pink and hair stirring in the lazy breeze. Keith steps back to let him in, but he stops short just over the threshold, allowing barely enough space to close the door. “You know, when we were roommates, and we went to Kaitlyn Brown’s party and there were poinsettias everywhere?”

“Ohhh, right,” Keith murmurs. “And we both got shit-faced drunk and agreed to forget about that night.” He reaches up to touch the soft red petals of the poinsettia in his hair. It’s snowing outside, soft and silent, wind still.

“Yeah, well,” Lance chuckles. “I was... maybe wondering if you wanted to remember that night instead.”

Keith raises his eyebrows. “Consider it remembered.”

Lance frowns slightly, raising one eyebrow, and then eases back into his confident smile. “Well, I was kind of hoping you could help remind me. What that was like.”

“Ah, this is a booty call.” Except Keith’s caught on to where this is going and he’s smirking.

Lance’s facade finally breaks and his face flushes red. “No - Jesus Christ, I’m asking you out, and I was trying to be smooth about it but I guess if that’s where you wanna go with this I really don’t have any protests...”

Keith laughs and grabs Lance’s hand, pulling him out the door and down the sidewalk outside. The view from the bridge is stunning, city lights piercing the clear midnight. “So, this is where Shiro proposed to Allura,” he says. “And I was just... thinking, you know, if uh. I thought it was a nice place to do it myself. So... Lance...” he drops softly to one knee, looking up at Lance’s beautiful moonlit eyes. “Will-“ and then his eyes widen, and he grabs Keith and pushes them both several feet backward as a car careens into the side of the bridge.

Only Keith recognizes this car.

It’s- “Matt,” he breathes, and struggles to his feet and scrambles over but the car is empty - he peers over the edge of the water, but there’s no sign of anything down there - he turns back to Lance-

Pidge is standing there, eyes closed, iv attached, monitors beeping. “We have to jump,” Lance breathes.

“We-“

“We have to jump, Keith!”

“Pidge is bleeding-“

“We have to jump if you want to live!”

Keith looks down behind him. One of those safety nets spreads across the river, the ones they use in the circus and in gymnastics. Acxa’s lying there, body limp, hair messed up, eyes closed.

“Okay,” Keith breathes. He closes his eyes.

Grabs Lance’s hand.

And they leap into the sky.

And Keith wakes up.

It’s 4:30 in the morning.

-

“Had the weirdest dream last night,” Keith mutters, sipping coffee next to where Hunk works.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah it was just... about all that’s been going on. I’m just... really really stressed out, I guess.”

“Yeah, I can imagine.” Hunk frowns. “You should come over after work. We could just chill.”

“Thanks,” Keith says. “Not up to it, but, yeah.”

Hunk nods. “How important is this shot of the school?”

Keith shakes his head. “Deal with it later.”

Hunk shrugs. “I’ll just figure it out with the audio.”

-

Keith frowns, trying to make out the words on the other end of his line. “... Lance? Can you-“ yawn “-get me an address or something?”

“Ezor- Ezor’s house. I don’t know, I don’t knooow...”

“Okay. Okay, I’m coming. Uh, think you can stay on the phone with me?”

“Yeah, sure,” Lance sighs. “I’m not actually at Ezor’s house anymore.”

“What?” Keith fumbles for his keys. “Where are you then?”

“... Street.”

“There’s more than a couple of those.”

A shaky sob. “I _know..._ ”

“Sh, shhhh...” Keith says immediately, afraid Lance will cut the phone. “Wait. Okay. Just stay there. How did you get there?”

“I walked.” Keith shoves one hand into his jacket.

“Okay, how much did you walk?”

“I don’t know...”

Keith pauses to try to shake Acxa awake. She’s dead to the world. “Okay, that’s okay,” Keith says, trying to figure out how to work around this. “What’s nearby you?”

There’s a pause. Acxa groans slightly - Keith shoves her shoulder roughly and she turns her face into the pillow, hands crawling up to cover her head. “There’s... a, uh. There’s Vons... Taco Bell...”

“Okay, Okay. So would you say you maybe walked for about thirty minutes?” Keith rips Acxa’s pillow out from under her head and she pushes herself up like a seal, glaring at him tiredly.

“... Sure.” _Ezor’s address,_ Keith mouths at Acxa, who blinks at him and groans again before reaching for her phone.

“Okay. Why were you at Ezor’s house?”

“Party.”

“What kind of party?”

“Small get-together.”

“I texted it to you,” Acxa grunts. “Now go away.”

Keith sends her a brief smile and gives her the pillow back before turning to head out the door.

“Okay,” he says into the phone. “Small get-together. What for?”

“Just the new movie we’re working on. Yknow? The one where I have to shoot in - in Germany-“ Lance is hiccuping again.

“Hey, hey, hey hey hey, Lance,” Keith tries as he unlocks his car. “Shhh. Hey. Calm down, okay? Just listen to my voice.”

“Can you come?”

“Yeah, I’m on my way. I’m getting into the car right now.”

“How long?”

“Maybe ten minutes or so. But I’ll stay on the phone with you, yeah?”

“Okay.”

“Why did you walk out?”

“I - I was sad. I didn’t want to be there anymore, Keith, and I just... fuck.”

“Okay. Hey, stay calm.” Lance’s voice is turning thick and messy again. “Calm down, Lance. It’s okay. Did you have anything to drink?”

“Yeah I downed four bottles of vodka because there’s no other possible reason I could ever feel sad, huh?”

“No, no - Lance, that’s not what I meant. Okay? I’m just checking in with you. Are you sober?”

“Yes. I’m fine. I had... half a can of beer, maybe. Tops.”

“Okay. Well, that’s good.” Keith’s eyes skip around - the streets are deserted - before he jumps the red light. He’s about to ask Lance if he has his phone on him before he catches himself. “Do you have water?”

“ _No,_ I’m in the middle of the street.”

“Alright. Sorry. How... how are you feeling?”

Lance doesn’t even answer that - his distant sniffling is enough.

“I’m coming. Okay, Lance? Just keep talking to me. It’s... Tuesday night? Why is she even partying on Tuesday night?”

“Our flight to start filming is, uh, this - this Tuesday.” Lance’s voice hitches. “So it was just kind of a... y’know, this time next week we’ll be starting our next project kind of thing. Small get-together. Like I said. And her new album’s gotten some good traction and... I don’t know. We were just having fun.”

“Wow,” Keith mutters. “Moving fast, huh?”

“What?”

“I mean, your movie,” he explains. “That was quick.”

“No, I’ve... I mean, yeah, I guess it’s quick because they’re scheduled to release Christmas next year. But I mean... auditions and all were a long time ago. I... fuck, I don’t know. I just know I’m leaving for Germany in a week.”

“Okay, Okay.” Keith breathes for a second. “Okay. Germany in a week. Is that... stressing you out or something?”

“No, not at all.”

“Hey.” The sarcasm from Lance is sharp. “I’m just trying to check in with you. I don’t know much about what’s been up with you lately, Lance. It’s 2:47 AM, I’m driving through mostly empty roads and I’m almost to this mall where I think you could be, because it’s near Ezor’s house. Yeah? A few more minutes, and I’ll be there. And then I’m gonna take care of you.”

“You’re gonna take care of me,” Lance repeats, voice choking on held back tears.

“Yeah. I’m your friend. And I’m gonna take care of you. There’s water in the car, too, some unopened Toblerone... and I’m on my way and you’re doing okay. You’re not even drunk, which makes you a right sight better than me. Because we both know how I cope with my emotions.”

“You don’t cope with your emotions.”

“I know. Yeah. And that’s a big flaw of mine.”

“Very big flaw. You just take it out on other people without explanation and you harbor all your thoughts forever. You’re obsessive.”

Okay, that’s getting a little too much, but as long as Lance isn’t completely breaking down sobbing. “Yeah. You’re right. I need to work on that and you need to keep calling me out on it.” He grinds his teeth a little as he does his best to keep naming his own flaws. “I’ve been shit at processing things in the past, shit at communicating, so here I am, coming to you to take care of you, trying to do it better than I have in the past.”

And for _some fucking reason_ Lance starts crying again. Keith frowns. If he disagrees with Lance they fall into an argument Keith gets angry and nothing is resolved. If he agrees with Lance he puts his ego through mild agony and Lance cries harder. Fucking double standards.

“Lance?”

“God, just... you asshole, Keith!”

Keith clenches his jaw. _What_ did he do wrong. “Yeah, yeah I know.”

“I fucking hate you!”

“Yeah.”

“Where are you?”

“Another minute or two.”

“God.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah I’m - I’m absolutely fucking divine out here. Beautiful day out, my eyes don’t hurt, my nose isn’t stuffed up, my chest isn’t squeezing so tight I can hardly breathe.”

Keith raises his eyebrows. “Wow. Oddly specific, but I’m glad you’re doing well.”

“Fuck you.”

“I’m pulling into the parking lot. I think I see you. On the sidewalk?”

“Yeah.”

Keith blinks as the phone cuts. He lowers it to his lap and then parks, right on top of the line because there are only, like, maybe five other cars here anyway.

He walks to Lance’s silhouette. The other man doesn’t move, but Keith notices the tremble to his shoulders and the soft sounds of his crying as he draws closer.

“Hey,” he says cautiously, lowering himself to sit down next to Lance. “I’m here.”

Lance turns his face to Keith, nestled into his arms, propped on his knees, eyes glimmering in the streetlights. He inhales shakily once like he’s going to say something, but he just leans into Keith instead, arms wrapping tightly around him and face burying into his shoulder.

Keith returns the embrace, rubbing his back slowly up and down. “Talk to me. What’s up.”

Lance shakes his head slowly. “I... I don’t know.”

“Just feeling things weigh on you?”

“Yeah. It happens.”

“I know. Here, let’s get to the car.” He stands and pulls Lance up with him, but the other man doesn’t make a move toward the car.

“I’m leaving to Germany in a week,” he says, voice shaky.

“Yeah, I... you mentioned that. On the phone,” Keith says softly.

“And I don’t... I’m going to miss it here?”

“Well, you’ve left for shoots before,” Keith reasons. “You’ve been around the world. You’ve been away from home on the holidays. What’s different about Germany?”

Lance shrugs and looks around helplessly. “I don’t know. I just don’t want to leave. Life is not very great right now and physically moving to live in a foreign country for a few months - yeah, it happens all the time but... I wish we just had a set, you know?”

“Yeah,” Keith says.

“And... and I... I miss you. It feels so alone at my own apartment now.”

Keith doesn’t know what to say to that.

“I know that I said we need to break up and I said I want to move on and I said all this shit but - but god, I just miss you so fucking much.”

Keith pulls Lance close again, and Lance is squeezing him like if he blinks Keith might fold away into the dark night forever. “Yeah, I miss you too,” he mumbles, breathing in the smell of Lance as they curl around each other. “It’s not your fault.”

“It is, though... I mean, I’m just doubting myself all the time now - maybe I’m just being a big damn baby and overreacting and we could have just talked about it and I didn’t need to blow things up...”

“Sh. Hey, Lance.” Keith pulls back, hands planted firmly on Lance’s shoulders. “Things are working out. You used your better judgement. We’re still working it out. And maybe in the future-“ but lance is shaking his head and opening his mouth so Keith backtracks. “Or maybe not, either way, things are only getting better. And... and we’re talking.” He forces a smile for Lance. “You’re talking to me. And I can’t tell you how important that is.”

Lance blinks and nods slightly, reaching up to wipe another tear away, pulling in shaky breaths as he tries to calm down.

“I’m gonna take you to... to your apartment, okay?”

“Stay the night,” Lance says quietly. “Stay the night, please, just stay even if you’re just there at least you’re there...”

And Keith doesn’t want to admit hat it feels really really damn good to see Lance this way. To see how much Lance does still need him, to see that it’s not just Keith’s hopeless ass hung up on someone who doesn’t want him - to see that that someone does want him, it’s just that things are a little fucked up right now.

But Pidge’s point remains valid.

Acxa’s point remains valid.

So... “Alright. I’ll drop you off, and maybe... maybe I’ll stay.”

-

But Keith and Lance have never really loved the rule book.

Yeah, Lance is the kind to sneak around behind people’s backs while Keith is the kind to flip them off right to their face.

But either way Lance is holding both of Keith’s hands and pulling him closer to where he’s seated at the edge of the bed, eyes fringed with soft scarlet pleading. And Keith’s heart is soaring, pounding, thrashing under his ribs because god, Lance. Lance is asking him to stay. _Wants_ him to stay. Is whispering “don’t go” and Keith wants to just do anything to please him.

“Lance,” he breathes into the darkness. The string lights above Lance’s bed are on, soft cream light dusting over their ebony surroundings. “You’re not having a great time right now, and I get that, but-“

“Whatever excuse it is I hope you realize I don’t _care,_ Lance whines softly. “Just once. One more time. Please, I just - I’m leaving in a week anyway and if we could just spend, like, _one night_ and then I promise I’ll get my shit together - but I _miss you_...”

Keith closes his eyes and tips his head back, groaning exhaustedly from the core of his chest. He wants to. He wants to so bad, so fucking bad - yeah, he has work tomorrow, yeah, they’re not dating, but. Is that really any reason not to do what they both mutually want? To just have fun?

“Keith, one more time.”

“No,” Keith gets out, throat tight.

“Why?”

“Because I love you.”

“I - I do too and-“

“Because I love you and one more time will lead to me messing up and I’m trying really hard to do the right thing. Okay? And this is not going to help with that. But...” Keith looks down at Lance, blue eyes shimmering with pinpricks of reflected light. His train of thought...

“But?”

“Shit,” Keith sighs. He bends down and grabs Lance’s shoulders and pushes him back, Lance’s head falling back into the pillow as Keith plants his lips firmly over Lance’s and kisses him for all he’s worth. Kisses him because after a week he’ll be in Germany for a few months. Kisses him because he’s sad and he misses Keith and he just wants one more night. Kisses him because fuck the rule book.

And he wants to smooth his hands down every inch of Lance’s skin, but he just deepens the kiss instead, tongues sliding and hot breath escaping in soft huffs. Finishes off. Pulls back. Leaves one small kiss just on Lance’s lips and then stands. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he says quietly while Lance catches his breath.

Then he grabs his keys from the mattress where he dropped them and turns away, shutting the door gently on his way out.

* * *

_Keith has poinsettias in his hair._

_Keith has poinsettias in his hair and Lance keeps trying to add more, pulling rubber bands off of Holly’s arm while she snores on the sofa to their left. Keith’s head feels heavy with their soft papery weight, tips of their leaves tickling his ears._

_“Lance,” he groans. “Dude. My home slice. Stop it.”_

_“Fuck off.”_

_Keith makes to stand up, but Lance laughs and catches his arm - which incurs groaning and blinking for the next minute or so while Keith tries to make the room stop spinning._

_So he frowns and turns around instead. “You fuck off.”_

_Lance grins his loopy idiot grin and grips Keith’s thighs, dragging him closer as he peers up at him. “Maaaake me.”_

_Keith narrows his eyes. “It’s loud here,” he mumbles, leaning down. “We could go somewhere quieter. Like, back to our rooms, and then you can play with my hair all you fucking want.”_

_Lance smiles and leans back, gazing at Keith fondly. Then he stands up, suddenly all up in Keith’s space - “all right, back to our room it is.” He bends down and curls his arm around the back of Keith’s knees, pulling them up as he supports Keith’s shoulders with his other arm, effectively sweeping Keith off his feet as Keith gasps and yelps and prays that no one around is sober enough to remember that noise later._

_Lance snorts. “You’re really attractive, you know that?”_

_Keith scowls. “I could probably score a date faster than you, Mr. Woe Is Me I’m Single But I Desperately Miss Every Single One Of My Eighty-Nine Exes.”_

_“Oh, no, I meant it, Keith. You’re attractive,” Lance smirks, and it suddenly hits Keith that Lance_ wasn’t _pulling his leg and he actually did just call Keith attractive. Cue blushing. “Model status.” Each syllable is carefully articulated. “Although, I must say, you’re a gay teenage boy with flowers in your hair, so I think at this moment I would win that scoring a date competition.”_

 _Keith clicks his tongue in annoyance even as he feels his entire face burn. “_ You _just called me attractive, like five seconds ago!” he protests. They’ve made it up the stairs to their hall._

 _“Mm, because you_ are _attractive, my tiny gay flower boy.” Lance grins and leans his face down close to Keith’s, and proximity alert alarms go off all over Keith’s body - he jumps and curls in on himself, whimpering in some mix of embarrassment and frustration and the way Lance has utterly_ flustered _him._

_Again._

_Praying that no one around is sober enough to remember hearing that noise._

_Lance grunts at Keith’s movement and loses his balance and they both tumble to the floor just outside their room. Keith bangs his elbow against the wall and swears loudly, fumbling and trying to figure out up from down._

_“Jesus Christ,” Lance groans, fumbling to shove his key into the lock._

_“It’s unlocked,” Keith complains._

_“Lame.” Lance shoves the door open and Keith drags himself inside after Lance, immediately collapsing on the bed. “You’re squishing the flowers,” Lance pouts._

_“I don’t care.”_

_“You said I could add more once we got here,” Lance sing-songs, leaning over Keith from the left._

_Keith lets out a huff of a breath and turns his head to Lance, stretching his arms up. “I’m tiiiiiired,” he complains._

_Lance swallows, eyes traveling quickly down Keith’s entire body. He reaches forward and pokes Keith’s skin where his shirt’s ridden up, and Keith lets out another huff of air as he slaps his arms down over his stomach._

_But it’s too late._

_Lance is grinning wickedly._

_“You’re ticklish,” he says in a quiet, threatening voice that heralds Keith’s impending demise._

_“No I’m n-“ and Lance is on him, fingers fluttering all over Keith’s stomach, and Keith is a man down, wheezing, laughing,_ giggling, _gasping - “stop-“ and he is suffering - “oh my god, stop-“ and Lance is merciless._

_He finally gives Keith some breathing room after a solid minute of absolute torture. Keith can feel the flush on his cheeks as he gasps and tries to catch his fucking breathe, clutching his aching stomach. Lance has him pinned down on the bed, one hand on either side, legs straddling Keith’s crotch. The poinsettias are getting all messed up and pulling at Keith’s hair._

_“Monster,” Keith accuses, still smiling even though he feels like his cheeks are going to fall off._

_“You’re beautiful, Keith,” Lance says, and the words are so quiet but so passionate, fervent. “I would fuck you right now. No joke, like - I’m not in love with you or anything but you actually are really attractive-“_

_Keith laughs and smacks Lance’s head lightly with just his fingers. His face is burning, but. “Well, I’m not a virgin or anything, so I’m down, but if we fuck that means we tie in the first-to-get-a-date competition, which I really can’t have.” Then his smile fades. “Also we’re drunk as all hell and that’s not a smart idea.”_ Also I think I’ve just fallen in love with you these last few hours and if you fuck me I’ll combust and my ashes will shoot into the sun. __

_Lance nods. “You are wise, master Obi-Wan. So you shan’t be fucked tonight. But you really can’t hold me back from kissing you until you’re just as good as.”_

_Keith doesn’t even have time to fully process the declaration before Lance is leaning down and his heat is pouring into Keith from soft lips, softer than any boy or girl Keith’s ever kissed before. And they never turned on the damn light but Keith’s world floods with brightness and whirling color - a cacophony of supernovas collides in his chest as every last tense muscle unravels and opens up for Lance. Everything he sees is red white gold orange blue violet ultramarine._

_Ultramarine._

_Exuberant._

_He’s drowning in it._

_He kisses back and tilts his head at a nicer angle and lets Lance slip his tongue inside his mouth, and fuck - Lance knows how to kiss. Knows how to slide his tongue against Keith’s and swirl it around just slow enough that Keith is fraying at the edges and sparking and burning up. He’s embers and coal and Lance ignites him._

_His fingers weave into Keith’s hair, carding through the strands and the flowers as his entire body presses flush against Keith. He plays with his hair, has a fucking vacation with it, and Keith - Keith is combusting._

_And Lance makes good on his promise. They make out until they’re both blissed out and drained and stupidly happy and completely out of breath, and Lance pulls one flower out of Keith’s hair and reaches over to a bedside table and presses it right in the middle of his astronomy textbook._

_“There’s not... enough space... on the bed. For us both,” Keith whispers weakly._

_“I don’t care,” Lance says in a rough voice, pulling Keith closer and burying his face into the back of Keith’s neck as they lie on their sides._

_And Keith falls asleep smiling._

_-_

_They both drag themselves out of bed the next afternoon when the light from the window becomes unbearable with their hangovers._

_“We can just... forget about what happened last night,” Lance proposes sheepishly._

_Keith nods, rubbing at his face tiredly. Petals are falling out of his damn hair. “Yeah. Sure. Good idea. Smart.”_

_Lance smirks. “Did you enjoy it, though?”_

_Keith nails him in the face with a pillow. “Can’t recall a thing,” he says pointedly._

_“Fine, fine.”_

* * *

Keith feels good about his self control. He does, really.

But winter is coming, which means memories are coming, memories of how everything started, or where he would peg the beginning of it all if he had to place a dot on his timeline.

Life continues as normal, but Keith had some minor form of SADD, he’s pretty sure, and something hits just a few weeks after Lance leaves for shooting in Germany.

And it’s not like Lance is going to leave him, logically. But Pidge is right - he tends to single out one person and they mean the world to him, and he’s terrified of even the possibility of losing them.

And it’s not like Lance is going to leave him, logically. Lance misses him. Lance still loves him. There are a few too many problems but Lance does, through all of it, still care for Keith.

And it’s not like Lance is going to leave him, logically. But he finds himself dialing up the number anyway, mind wrecked, heart low, body tired but refusing to sleep.

“Hey, what’s up.”

"Lance-" and then Keith loses it, months and months of culminating fears and aches spilling out of every seam. He sobs helplessly into the phone. "Don't leave me. Please don't leave me. I was such a dick to you for so long and I know you owe me nothing, and I know I deserve nothing, and I'm so so sorry for everything, you'll never know. But-" he hiccups, threat closing up too tight to allow any more words.

There's quiet on Lance's end, distant voices overshadowed just barely by Lance's shallow breathing.

"But for the love of _god -_ don't leave me." Keith cuts the phone, then, flinging it to the carpet and flopping back in his bed. It's so cold.

Yes, he’s being needy. But what the fuck is so wrong with needing people? What’s so bad about wanting to love and be loved back? Why is it so much to ask for to just not be alone?

He grimaces, lips curling back from teeth clenched against another sob. Slaps his hands to his face so he stops staring at the small poinsettia on the windowsill and then -

Then there's just the soft sounds of his crying floating out into the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fyi I have no idea how the acting industry works, nor do I have a single clue about how coma patients are treated. Idk a single thing my dude. I’m sorry if I got something horribly wrong and feel free to let me know anything important in the comments... but please also remember it’s just a fic lol
> 
> Upped my dosage of antidepressants and I’ve been doing just fine gotta gotta be down because I want it all - no kissing for me, tho, my laptop fell on my face and I cut my lip and I have a crush on an asshole and I’ve been asked out several times by someone I’m not interested in. Just so you wonderful people know that I’m just as lame as anyone else lol
> 
> Other than that? Thanks so much, whether you just found this fic or whether you’ve been here from the start. Writing this has helped me so much. I know I sound sentimental but I’m drafting this on the last day of school before winter break and don’t worry there are more updates coming, lol. But happy new year everyone :D
> 
> You guys support me emotionally so much, every kudos and every comment and even those who have come and messaged me. Thank you so much.


	5. intermission

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Been a while, huh?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My art tumblr is viraseii if you like my art!!
> 
> Also enjoy the 2000’s pop music for the speedpaint since that’s a thing with this fic


	6. champagne

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry it took so long ;D but it got hard to write winter-y stuff when it wasn't winter anymore whoops
> 
> also who's still alive in the klance fandom everyone sound off

Not even five minutes later, Lance is calling him back. Keith ignores it three times before he finally picks up, breathing out a soft “hm” in greeting.

“Keith, are you okay?”

“F... Fine.” Keith’s throat clenches in on itself tightly as he tries to swallow down the sobs that jerk through his chest.

“Are you sure? Talk to me, what’s wrong? It’s like... four in the morning over there, four thirty.”

“Yeah - nothing! I... you sound like you’re out and about somewhere.”

“Yeah, was hanging with the cast, but I left for a bit. What’s going on?”

Keith swallows.

“You know I’m... I’m not gonna leave you, Keith.” Lance’s voice is suddenly softer, vulnerable. “I tried really hard but you saw where that got me. You’re stuck with me, for a good while at least. We’re... we’re friends.”

Keith sniffles.

“What’s on your mind? Did something happen recently?”

“Nothing,” Keith says honestly. “I just... I lost my tablet pen and everything is just. Too much.”

Lance laughs softly. “Well, I hope you find it. Lost it where?”

“Room.”

“That’s not too bad. Buy yourself a spare for me, I’ll pay you.”

“No, I - I don’t-“ hiccup “-need that.”

There’s a slight pause, and then-

“I should have taken you up that Tuesday night on the-“

“Whoa, whoa,” Lance says, laughing nervously. “That was... you made the right choice, Keith. And I’m proud of you for that.” Keith pushes his fingers into his hair. “Acxa’s totally right, I... I wasn’t being fair to you with all that I was asking. I gotta own up to my decisions and choices. So don’t worry about that.”

“But I - I’m.” Keith seals his lips shut before he can sob, and it jumps painfully in his throat.

“Why don’t you go drink some water? Maybe take a shower, have you been up all night?”

“Yeah.”

“You should sleep. Really.”

“I want...” what does he want?

“What?”

“I don’t want you to leave,” he whispers.

“Keith, I’m here. I’m staying. I’m around the world, but I’m not leaving. Okay? We’re going to go out with Pidge and Shiro’s family and Hunk and get ice cream, coffee, ride every ride at the amusement park together. Everything’s still the same.”

Keith nods. “Okay.”

“This is the first time you’ve talked to me since I left, you know,” Lance says hesitantly. “You weren’t at the airport, either, even Pidge came to the airport. I’ve been worried about you.”

That does bring a soft smile to his lips. “I..” He doesn’t have an explanation for that. “Honestly wasn’t really feeling like it. Things have just been getting worse and...”

“Last year you weren’t this bad.”

Keith laughs. “Are you helping me dissociate, or something?”

Lance huffs out a short laugh in return. “I’m trying to calm you down. Get some sleep, okay? And I promise we’ll do everything I said this spring.”

“Okay,” Keith says. Lance murmurs something else and the phone cuts, the buzzing of an empty line taking the place of his voice. He breathes in, out. Counts his own fingers - one two three four five. One two three four five. One two three four five... he’s not dreaming. Everything Lance just said on the phone was real life. He gets up slowly to pour himself a glass of water, wiping tears from his face.

He splashes cold water on his face a couple times to try to remember all his senses. It pushes away the sleep he should be getting, but soothes the burn of his eyes until he’s calmed down somewhat.

Keith gets back in bed and lets himself picture the amusement park they like to go to, picture Leo and the twins, picture Pidge walking again, picture her without scars. Picture sunshine and shorts.

It’s just enough to lull him into shallow slumber.

* * *

Pidge is finally back. That’s the best part of Keith’s life right now - Hunk, Pidge, Acxa, and Keith, all hanging out at lunch, throwing jokes at each other. The bruises have faded considerably and there’s just a peppering of scabs across Pidge’s cheek. 

“When did you get this job?” Pidge asks suspiciously on her first day back.

Hunk smiles. “Actually, Lotor called me in after one of the editors quit. It wasn’t planned, but I had time, so.”

Keith and Pidge go out to Starbucks again, and it’s amazingly like nothing has happened - coffee shops are like liminal spaces, but benevolent and gentle. Pocket realities and he can just ignore everything outside.

He really hates the rain. He prefers sunshine and wind - rain and clouds fuck with visibility and it pisses him off. The welcome warmth inside the coffee shop coupled with the return of Pidge’s usual liveliness offers a pleasant distraction.

Acxa comes home later to him ransacking his room. Padme is prowling around the apartment unhappily, unamused with Keith’s rearranging. “What are you doing?” she asks slowly, eyes trailing Padme as she disappears behind a corner.

“I’m finding my tablet pen,” Keith mutters. “I’ll go through every damn inch of this place if I have to.”

Acxa winces. “Don’t you have a spare...”

“I need to find it, okay?” he snaps.

She raises her hands as he looks up from the desk he’s just pushed into the very corner. “Okay, okay.” Acxa turns away from his door.

“Wait. Where even were you?”

“I was at the gym with Zethrid, actually,” she says.

“You usually go on Saturdays.”

“Zethrid goes on Wednesdays, so I guess I’ll go both days from now on.”

Keith frowns and turns back to his work. That’s fine.

“You can come.”

“Yeah, maybe after I find my fucking pen.”

He glances back again and she’s not there anymore. He feels a little bad for snapping at her now.

-

The sound of Lance’s voice is what finally jars him out of his thoughts, fingers stilling on the papers he was shifting through. He stares at them - old bills, bank statements. Seriously, why would it even be here.

He groans as he rises to his feet, swinging open his door and squinting in the dim hallway as he turns his head to capture the direction of the sound. It leads him to Acxa’s room, so he knocks twice, and she calls out for him to come in.

She’s sitting at her desk, laptop open in front of her, and there are two silhouettes Keith can make out on screen. He walks forward cautiously, two beautiful faces coming into focus. “Hey, Keith!” Ezor says brightly. Acxa smiles at him.

“Hi,” he says softly.

“We haven’t heard from you in a while, man,” Lance grins through the Skype chat. “You been ghosting on me?”

Keith considers that. He has, actually - not because it’s Lance but because he’s been ghosting everyone he can get away with ghosting. “I was looking for my tablet pen,” he mumbles.

“That’s why he looks like a wreck,” Acxa supplies.

“Oh, I didn’t notice, he always looks like that,” Lance says.

Keith frowns, sighs, turns back to the door. “Keith!” Ezor calls. “Stay and chat with us! How have you been!”

“Not good,” he growls, but then that prompts Ezor to draw her brows up and ask why and he immediately regrets saying anything because-...

Acxa pulls on his arm and drags him down to sit on the chair with her, one leg hanging off and the other pressed up against her. “I wish you were working with us, Keith,” Ezor says brightly. “There’s another set director here - he knows what he’s doing, I feel like you would get along.”

Keith just raises his eyebrows and drops his gaze to the keyboard. Acxa laughs slightly. “Keith isn’t social, Ezor, you know that.”

“I’m social,” he sighs.

“Yeah, so social,” Lance says lightly, as if he’s taking Keith’s side on the pointless debate. “Watch yo self. Keith, dude, my paycheck is on fire with this movie, I’ll buy you one of your fancy ass tablet pens.”

Keith rolls his eyes. “I don’t need it.”

“Accept it as your birthday present. Okay? Which, by the way, happy birthday because it’s already the twenty-third over here.”

Ezor gasps. “It’s your birthday?? We have to sing!”

“No, we don’t,” Keith sighs.

She doesn’t listen - just goes for it, and Lance joins in and then Acxa, all while Keith eyes the end call button.

“Hey, Keith.”

Keith glances up at the screen.

“Smiiiiiiile,” Lance says softly.

Keith breathes in and out. Pauses. Then he closes his eyes and shakes his head, standing up again and walking out of the room.

“He’s tired...” he hears Acxa saying faintly.

-

He tries to find his tablet pen again, but he just crumples up inside and ends up collapsing on the bare mattress. His phone chimes with the tone he set for Lance’s texts - he hesitates for about three full seconds before hitting block.

Sleep takes him swift and final like a guillotine.

* * *

He completely vacuums and wipes down every inch of his room, baseboards and ceilings and all, only to finally find his pen when he’s pushing his bed back to the corner it was in. It was under his bed the whole time - and at this point he’s honestly too exhausted to care about how it got there and why he didn’t see it the other 7 times he checked.

He’s too exhausted to feel properly annoyed, though. He just sighs and places it on his desk before flopping back on his mattress - now refitted with bedsheet and all - and opens twitter on his phone.

Acxa knocks on his door sometime close to lunch. “Keith?”

He sighs, slapping his phone facedown on his stomach. “What?”

She comes in. “Are you okay?”

He frowns. “Stellar.”

“You seem tired and you skipped breakfast this morning.”

“I am tired.”

“... Can I help?”

He doesn’t respond. He wishes she could. He wishes he could tell her exactly what’s wrong and she could fix it for him. But he doesn’t fucking know.

“Lance is worried about you.”

“Shouldn’t he be focusing on his film?”

“Well, he’s still worried about you. You should at least let him know you’re alright.”

He sighs.

Picks up his phone again, stares at the blank screen.

“Fine.”

This concession results in Keith texting Lance “I’m fine” before blocking him again.

It stays this way for weeks.

He doesn’t feel like talking to people who’ll try to pry under his guard and figure out what’s bothering him. He wants to be left alone, but he wants company - he doesn’t want people to worry about him, but he wants someone’s attention.

Lance is blocked.

Hunk is blocked.

Ezor doesn’t have his number but she would be blocked as well.

Acxa... well, if he blocked her, she would probably pester him more.

Pidge is not blocked but Pidge is also not online or something - because she hasn’t made an effort to text him any more than the typical day to day conversation.

Shiro is definitely blocked because as depressed as Keith is, there’s a part of him that almost doesn’t even _want_ to feel better and shiro is going to tear that down and.... no.

Then there are some people he doesn’t talk to as much - Zethrid, Narti, Allura, Nyma, Coran... Rolo.

Zethrid would be good to talk to, but she’s not the most sensitive. Narti makes him kind of uncomfortable. Allura is... a little too close to Shiro in terms of both personality and physical location. Nyma pisses him off and Coran is hard to keep up with on the best of days.

Rolo is actually... surprisingly chill, for someone who hangs around a girl like Nyma so much. They were friends in high school, so Keith figures it isn’t too weird to shoot him a message when he wants to talk to someone out of his main circle.

**hey**

_Keith. What’s up_

**I’m tired**

_Having a tough day at work_

**No I didn’t go to work**

**I’m just tired**

_Sucks. I know the feeling. Usual post-shooting slump, maybe_

**Yeah that could be it**

_HAVENT heard from you in a while. What have you been up to_

_Made some ripples in the media recently_

**Yeah I’m kind of trying not to think about things like that right now**

_Cool with me_

_Everything good with mcclain_

**We’re not fucking dating**

**We said that so we could visit Pidge in the hospital**

**She said you cake to see her a couple times too actually**

_Yeah it’s terrible what happened with her_

_My dad was in a big crashrecenly so I know what it’s like to go through that_

**Sorry to hear that**

_It’s all good_

**Is he okay**

_Besides I’m glad Pidge is fine_

_Oh he’s passed_

**Fuck I didn’t know**

_You’re good. What else is up with you_

**Literally nothing**

**I just want to talk to someone**

_And you chose me_

**Yeah I’m a little sick of the other people in my life**

_Haha I’m honored_

_Wanna get coffee_

**Not particularly interested in interacting with the rest of the world**

_We could hang out tonight if you’re down for that_

_I’m actually off now, shift ended an hour ago and I’m free all day_

**I’m good**

_We could just relax and watch movies_

_No interaction required, just some company if you’d like_

**Actually yeah okay maybe**

**I’ll let you know later**

_Sounds cool. Guess I’ll clean up for you_

**don’t bother**

**I’m not anyone super important**

_Well you’re a former boss_

**friend**

_That too_

**Whatever. I’ll come by someday.. not today I’m tired**

-

It’s several more weeks of texting only Rolo until Keith actually goes over. Rolo opens the door to his house - fucker works _for_ Keith sometimes but can somehow still afford an _actual house_ \- and meets Keith with a fond grin and a quick embrace.

“Come on in,” he says calmly. “I have coffee. Black?”

“Yeah, sounds good,” Keith mumbles, stepping in. “What’ve you been up to?”

“Oh, Christmas shopping for my family, mostly.”

Keith frowns, glancing at a small photo frame on the counter of Rolo and his sister. “It’s.... kind of early for that?”

Rolo taps his temple twice. “Gotta be money smart. Besides, only a month left, it’s not that early.”

Huh. “I don’t even know... what I would get people, and who I would get presents to...”

Rolo laughs. “Easy. Who do you talk to more than once a week, and also happen to like?”

“That would disqualify a lot of close friends, actually,” Keith huffs, sinking down into Rolo’s leather sofa.

Rolo frowns, somewhat sympathetically. “Why? Lost contact or something?”

Keith shrugs, lightly trailing his fingers around the patterns of a glass vase filled with fake roses. “Just... don’t get a lot of time.”

Rolo raises his eyebrows, walking back to the couch across from Keith after clicking his coffee maker on. “Yet you’re here. I haven’t seen you in months. And you have time to text me.”

Keith shrugs. “Yeah.”

Rolo smiles a little quizzically. “You’re so strange. What do you wanna watch?

Keith glances up at the TV mounted on the wall behind him. “Um.... something that doesn’t require a lot of thinking.”

“Man, you’re out of it today. Alright, time for some old school Tom Cruise.”

Keith’s lips quirk up and he turns his face back to Rolo. He’s in a simple thin hoodie, sleeves pushed up and neckline hanging just a little low. Jeans. Keith sighs and lifts himself off the couch, slumping right back into the seat across from him.

It’s that one about flying. Keith remembers loving this movie when he was younger - it actually is a really nice choice. Doesn’t require him to focus too hard. Lighthearted. Action. Reminds him of Lance’s movies somewhat, but that’s not one hundred percent a bad thing.

Because Lance does make some damn good movies.

Keith ends up staying the night, sleeping on Rolo’s couch. First time they’ve even seen each other physically in months, and Keith comes over after a few weeks of spontaneous conversation, binge watches four movies, eats half his kitchen, crashes for the night.

He doesn’t even wake up until one in the afternoon the next day, feeling simultaneously well rested and like he’s run a marathon. He groans as he swings his legs down to the floor.

“Afternoon, Sleeping Beauty,” Rolo laughs.

Keith frowns. Sleeping _Beauty._ Does that mean something? Or is Rolo just making a joke, and Keith’s spent too much time centered around Lance these last few years?

“Here, eat some breakfast.”

Keith shakes his head groggily. “I think I’ve bugged you enough. If I don’t leave now, karma will come around to me in the form of my roommate.”

Rolo laughs. “The costume designer?”

“One and only.”

“Wow. Connections, connections.” Rolo smiles at Keith, drying off his wrist with a kitchen towel. “You sure you don’t want anything before you leave?”

Keith is already grabbing his keys. “No thanks. I’m good. Thanks for... yeah.”

“No problem,” Rolo dismisses, moving to walk Keith to the door. “Come over again whenever you want. It’s cool talking to you.”

“I probably will,” he says. “And, same.”

* * *

This is how hanging out with Rolo becomes a regular thing for Keith. This is how he pushes out people close to him and runs toward people who aren’t close because he doesn’t want anyone to press him, and strangers don’t press you. Making friends is fun. Keeping friends is hell.

A week from Christmas, Keith wakes up in a panic and immediately calls Rolo up to help manage his crisis. Acxa’s already out somewhere, leaving a somewhat grumpy Padme for Keith to manage while he focuses on trying not to fuck up his coffee in his rush.

“Okay, chill out,” Rolo laughs on the other end of the line. “This isn’t hard. Do you have a list?”

“No- damn it!” He pulls the phone away from his face to lean down and pick Padme up. “Sorry, my cat tried to trip me. But no. I don’t. And I don’t know where to go since I haven’t really been keeping my eye open for anything...”

“Alright, well, I’ll be over in a few minutes. Get writing.”

“Got it,” Keith breathes, cutting his phone and giving Padme an unamused stare she returns with a hundred times more spite. He huffs. “What.”

She lets out a complaining mewl. Then she starts squirming, until Keith sets her down again and she disappears quickly into his room.

“Christ,” he mutters, pouring his coffee and grabbing a pen and notepad from the kitchen drawer.

Who does he want to get shit for? Shiro, Allura, probably the kids, Acxa... Ezor? Maybe? She wouldn’t get anything for him, probably, so he decides against it. Pidge, definitely, and Lance.... well......

He jots the name down anyway. He’ll figure it out at the end.

* * *

“Shiro’s gonna be pissed.”

“Yeah, but his kids are going to idolize you for at least a few days,” Rolo points out, watching as Keith scans the bags of chocolate at the self-checkout counter.

Keith snorts. “Leo? You think?”

“He’s not going to say no.”

“Yeah, sure.”

“So, what are you getting McClain?”

Keith’s fingers slip on the keypad as he types in his pin and he swears. “I don’t know.”

“Been avoiding thinking about that?”

Keith blows out a breath. “I mean.” Reenters his pin. “The press will probably want some story on it. So it can’t be something super casual, like a Starbucks card, because that’s a lame present. It can’t be something big because... well, it can’t, because we’re done and I’m over that and... I don’t know.”

Rolo laughs. “Go see a movie together.”

Keith considers. Frowns. “Oh, no - he’s in Germany right now.”

Rolo’s eyebrows arch high as he lifts Keith’s shopping bags, bursting with chocolate. “Really? What’s he working on?”

Keith frowns. He swears he remembered the name of this movie. “Some... spy thing. You know.” Rolo snorts in response.

“Alright, go basic with a mixtape. Media eats up that cheesy stuff.”

Keith huffs. Fine.

“Thanks, Rolo,” he says genuinely, grabbing a bag from him as they make for the exit.

“No big deal. Besides, it’s nice to get out of the house, you know. You’ve been stuck in there.”

“I haven’t...” Keith shivers in the evening chill.

“The only reason you’ve left your apartment recently is to come my house and to go to work. You need to get out. What are you doing on New Years?”

Keith’s mind blanks. There is... probably a party, right? Has he even - he usually goes to Shiro’s for Christmas, but New Years... “I don’t know,” he says honestly. “Nothing?”

“Let’s go ice skating.”

Keith snorts.

“I’m serious!”

Keith raises an eyebrow at him, fingertips resting on the trunk of his car. He decides Rolo is actually genuinely inviting Keith to go skating with him, given the earnest look on his face. The trunk falls closed. Keith pats his pockets for his keys. “Sure,” he says noncommittally.

“Is that a promise?”

“I don’t know,” Keith scowls. “Fine. Whatever. I’ll let you know.”

Rolo laughs.

And something feels a little less heavy in Keith’s chest.

* * *

_Keith holds mouthwash in his mouth until his tongue goes numb. He’s salivating in an effort to quell the sting, eyes swimming, but he just spits it out and replaces it with a fresh mouthful._

_“Wow, ouch, is kissing me that bad?” Lance laughs._

_Keith holds up a middle finger. Lance snorts and comes up behind Keith, spreading his fingers comfortingly over Keith’s shoulders, but Keith shrugs them off violently, blinking back moisture in his eyes._

_“Keith, come on.”_

_Keith waits in silence until the mouthwash isn’t burning away his sense of taste anymore, before spitting it out and reaching for the bottle again._

_Lance gets there first, sliding it away from him. “You know, you can’t do this all night. Can we talk?” Keith glares at him, heated and angry._

_“Can you leave me alone?” he says testily._

_“Well, seeing as we’re living three feet away from each other for the next couple weeks, no. Dude-“ Lance reaches for him again, wrapping his fingers around his biceps softly._

_Keith breaks away and moves past him, stalking down the hall. He sniffs a little, nose runny from the taste lingering in his mouth._

_“Keith, babe-“ Lance calls out from the bathroom, flipping off the lights as he follows. “Hey. I’m here for you and I care, Keith, and you gotta talk to me.”_

_Keith pulls off his shirt roughly, balling it up and throwing it into his suitcase before reaching for the softer one he sleeps in. Maybe if he doesn’t respond, Lance will leave him alone._

_“Keith, I want to be able to-“_

_“You’re being an asshole, Lance,” Keith growls. He throws back the blankets on the bed, crawling in before throwing them back over his body._

_Lance sighs. There are the soft sounds of him changing, and then the light’s off and the bed is shifting as Lance gets in next to Keith._

_“Keith...” Lance starts. “I’m going to be honest, I don’t understand why you’re upset. Don’t you want-“_

_“Shut up.”_

_“I’m just trying to-“_

_“I told you. To leave me alone.”_

_There’s silence. It stretches out long enough that Keith almost thinks Lance has fallen asleep. He finally relaxes his shoulders somewhat, letting his mind explore the thoughts whirling around in it._

_He didn’t ask for this. She‘s maybe twenty years too fucking late for this. Shiro should know better than to try to help - this is not something Keith fucking wants or fucking needs._

_He pictures her in his mind. Hair cropped short, bottom half dyed electric pink, like some kind of punk teenager. Definitely enjoying life. Why did she even care._

_He’s sniffling again, and then Lance’s arm is wrapping around his shoulders, trying to pull him closer._

_Anger flares inside Keith. He elbows back sharply, landing it over Lance’s sternum, who hisses in response. Keith sits up, turning and glaring._

_Lance twists his mouth like he’s trying to hold words back, but then lets them spill out anyway - “I want you to_ talk _to me, Keith,” he says softly. “This is your family. I don’t understand-“_

 _“You wouldn’t,” Keith snaps. “And I_ don’t _want to talk to you. I want to be left alone so I can think for myself and I want you to fucking respect that.”_

_Lance still seems troubled. “You’re shutting me out, and-“_

_Keith’s had enough. He throws off the blankets again, shoving them into Lance’s face to muffle whatever bullshit is coming from it. Swings his legs over the side of the creaking bed. Yanks the door open, not even flinching as it bangs into the doorstopper, and leaves to go sleep on the sofa downstairs so he’ll have some goddamn peace and quiet._

_It’s next to impossible in Lance’s house, but it’s all Keith’s ever known, and it’s all Keith ever wants to know. He doesn’t want a goth version of Stephanie from Lazy Town showing up and trying to pretend she cares about him. He doesn’t want people to care about him!_

_Even as he’s crashing on the worn springs of Lance’s sofa, though, he knows that’s a filthy fucking lie._

* * *

“Hey, I was wondering if you’re going to be at Shiro’s this year. I get that you’re busy a lot, but you missed last Christmas... yeah.” Keith hangs up the phone.

He’s still fairly certain Krolia’s involved in some kind of secret service gig. It’s the only way to explain - well... everything about her.

He still can’t really consider her his _mother,_ considering she never mothered him. But there are ways he gets along with her... and. Well. If Keith’s really working on the whole maturity and socialization thing, he might as well be on good terms with his own biological parent.

He drops his phone back to the counter, putting his attention back on his ravioli. Padme’s watching him owlishly from the floor to his right.

“What,” he challenges her.

She responds with a protesting meow. Keith smiles.

He decides to watch My Left Hand Man while he eats. Texts Acxa asking about her Christmas plans. He feels pathetic - it’s really fucking late for all of this, but for the first time in a long while he’s not repulsed by the notion of networking and maintaining relationships. Besides, Keith fucking loves Acxa. He can’t really be antisocial for long with her.

Padme brings him a dead spider.

“Thanks. I don’t want it.”

She leaves it next to his plate, satisfied with herself.

* * *

_Krolia shows up at Lance’s fucking door the next morning. Keith’s slept poorly, and he’s barely paying attention to some elaborate story Veronica is telling him while Luis makes pancakes, when there’s a knock at the door and she goes bounding after it._

_There’s a thud and an offended, “Hey, fuck you!” In Lance’s voice, but that’s about all Keith’s processed._

_And then a little bit later, Lance is gently shaking Keith’s shoulder. Keith blinks. “Come here,” Lance murmurs._

_Keith gets up and follows as Lance tugs him toward a corner of the room._

_“Your mom’s here,” he says softly._

_Keith stiffens. “What?”_

_“She’s in the front room. Look, you should say hi to her, in my opinion, but I... well.” Lance twists his mouth. “It’s your call.”_

_Keith’s dumbfounded. Why._ Why. __

_He doesn’t even say anything, just turns on his heel and heads out toward the front room._

_It’s the first time he’s seen her in person since.... it’s the first time he’s seen her. Her gaze grows overly fond and pained as it lands on him. “Keith...”_

_“Why are you here?”_

_She breathes in deeply. “I had to see you. Your friend Shiro told me this is where you were staying for the vacation...”_

_Keith snorts. “Okay, but why are you_ here. _Don’t know if you’re aware, but you’re a couple Christmasses late.”_

Krolia breathes in deeply. “Because I’m sorry.”

Keith doesn’t know what else he fucking expected.

“I can’t be in your life, and I’m sorry for that. But I love you.”

“You don’t even <.em>know _me...”_

_She looks pained. “That doesn’t mean I don’t want to.”_

_Keith doesn’t know what to do. He doesn’t understand how she expects words and promises to makeup for such absence._

_He breathes. Slowly. “Can you please just... let me enjoy my stay with Lance. I can’t handle this right now.”_

_She smiles gently. “You need time. It’s okay. I’ll respect that.”_

* * *

“Keith, could you get the door?” Allura calls from where she’s kicking ass at tomb raider. Leia is cheering her on vivaciously.

He sighs. He figures it’s either Pidge or Alfor, so he doesn’t bother to fix his jacket, hanging loosely from his forearms where Luna pulled the sleeves off his shoulders.

It’s a bit of a shock when the lady behind the door is dressed in a sleek black and purple dress, hair cropped short and the lower half dyed vibrant pink. She smiles warmly at Keith.

“... Mom?”

“Hi, Keith,” she says softly.

Keith blinks for a second - and then he pulls her in close, clinging to her muscled body and grinning. “Why do you never stay in contact?” he accuses.

“It’s difficult,” she laughs. “You know, timezones... cellular data plans...”

“Right,” he snorts.

“I got your message and came, though.”

“Yeah, I guess calling back costs too much money.” He’s good. He’s in a good mood today. And she’s here, and while she still makes him feel a little weird, there’s really nothing to.... theres no real _problem._

He shuts the door right as Shiro comes down the stairs. “Krolia!” He greets. “It’s nice to see you.”

“It’s good to see you too,” she smirks as Shiro welcomes her with an embrace.

“You should have let us know you were coming!”

“Actually, this was more spur of the moment.” Krolia glances back to Keith again. “I figured it couldn’t hurt to stop by.”

“How long will you stay?” Keith asks as they move into the living room. Allura sends Krolia a quick smile in greeting, focused on her game.

She shrugs. “I can’t say... maybe just tonight. I’m... you know, work calls.”

Keith laughs through his nose. “Sure.”

“How’s Lance?”

Keith freezes. “He’s, uh, in Germany.”

“Oh? Family?”

Shiro busies himself in the kitchen as Krolia takes a seat on the sofa adjacent to Keith. “Not... no. He’s shooting.”

“He’s not getting a break for Christmas? I was expecting him to be here with you.”

“Actually, they broke up.” Keith jumps at the new voice.

“Leo,” Shiro says quietly.

“What?” The boy frowns as he grabs a cookie from the tray where the twins left them to cool. “You guys take forever to say what needs to be said. They broke up so they’re not spending Christmas together.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, Keith,” Krolia says softly. “Are things well between you two?”

“Yeah, fine,” he says, shrugging it off. “Have you.... figured out anything about Dad?”

He can sense the awkwardness of everyone else around the two of them. But she dipped into his personal life and this is his attempt at countering that. The only other sound is Lara Croft’s grunting.

“No,” Krolia says regretfully. “The Air Force has no more information than what they already gave us.”

“Your Dad was in the Air Force?”

Keith looks up at Leo, who’s on his... third cookie or something. “Yeah,” he says. “He vanished.”

“It was aliens!” Leia says passionately.

Keith admits he’s thought that himself plenty of times.

“It’s not aliens, stupid,” Leo says, voice loud and annoyed. “That doesn’t happen in real life.”

“Leo,” Shiro repeats.

“Yes, it does!” Leia counters cleverly.

Leo groans and grabs another cookie, turning away to head back up to his room.

Keith turns back to Krolia, eyebrows raised.

“Stupid,” Leia bites out vehemently.

“ _Leo._ ”

“I’m not Leo!”

“Lun-Leia. Oh my god.”

* * *

“I guess stargazing is genetic.”

Keith glances back to the voice - Krolia is standing in the hallway outside his door. She comes in and walks up to the windowsill.

“Don’t fall.”

He snorts. “They’re clearer here than at my apartment.” Points up. “Mars is visible.”

She climbs out to join Keith on the roof. “You’ve had an interesting lack of questions about my life lately.”

Keith shrugs. “If everything’s a secret you can’t tell me, why would I ask.”

She smiles fondly, leaning back against the slope of the roof and staring up into the night. “Curiosity should defy logic.” He rolls his eyes. “I’m sure we’ll eventually figure out what happened to him.”

He sighs. “I don’t care all that much. It was decades ago, and I don’t think there’s any point chasing after a dead man.” His eyes flicker to Krolia’s in the night. “Then again, I thought you were dead for a long ass time, too.”

She laughs. “Yeah. It was important for me to disappear for a few years back then.”

He nods. “Totally.”

She looks at him like she’s waiting for something, but he won’t give it to her. Until finally - she sighs. “I’m a spy, Keith.”

He smirks. “So what are you doing here?”

“Breaking the rules. I tried to let you go, but I...” she smiles. “I’m completely off radar. Technically in great peril right now, which is preventing me from keeping in contact. That phone number you have - you and Shiro are the only ones. I’m not supposed to have that.”

“I guess disregard for authority is genetic,” he teases.

She laughs. Sighs. “And I did find out about your father. His plane was shot down over Siberia.”

Keith frowns. “Good to know, I guess.”

She reaches out to lace her fingers with his. “I’m sorry.”

He lets his eyes close. “Thanks.”

* * *

Krolia is gone without a hint or a trace in the morning.

* * *

Christmas passes mostly uneventfully. He sends Lance poinsettias - shipping plants is fucking complicated as all hell and expensive as shit but at least poinsettias _mean_ something to Lance and to him. Lance sends him a tablet pen. It’s a really fucking _good_ tablet pen and it comes with loads of tips and Keith wants to laugh, because he’d forgotten about that conversation but Lance remembers things like that. He texts him a thank you and feels lame about the poinsettias afterwards, but... nothing to be done now. Keith is always shit at gifts, anyway? And Lance is in Germany and there really isn’t anything Keith can do.

A few days later Keith is forced to come to terms with the fact that he hasn’t skated in a long fucking time and Rolo is - not just comfortable with skates, skilled with them. He skates backwards, easily swiveling and spinning and gliding like magic while Keith moves stiffly and breaks his momentum by grabbing the wall.

Rolo seems to find this really _funny._ “No, like, you’re normally really agile, so watching you like this is amusing.”

“I’m never working with you again,” Keith promises, biting down laughter. “How long do we have to do this?”

“One more hour until next year,” Rolo supplies, checking his watch. “We can take a break, grab something to eat.”

Keith considers that. “Yeah, fine, alright.” He points himself in the direction of the nearest exit, ready to push himself out, but Rolo grabs his arm and pulls him along smoothly. Keith clutches him for balance.

“You’re lucky you’re so short, I’m not very strong and if you were any heavier we’d both be on the ground.”

Keith barks out a laugh. “Very funny.”

“I’m dead serious.” They reach the exit and Keith steps off the ice, finally relaxing his stiff knees joints. It feels like trying to melt stone. “Anyway, I know you like Starbucks even though Starbucks is trash, so.”

“Don’t let Lance hear you,” Keith warns as he bends down to fumble with his rented skates.

“Ah, he’s around the world, he has no idea what we’re doing.”

Keith freezes.

Immediately he reverts back to logic - this is his head interpreting meaningless words in ways they’re not meant to be interpreted. But also. Also.

Also, that’s kind of a suspicious thing to say.

“Fair point,” is what he goes for. “I’m gonna go rob his apartment.”

Rolo snorts. “Breaking news: famous actor Lance McClain gets robbed by his boyfriend while visiting Germany. But they live together. So, not really news at all.”

“Yeah, that’s pretty accurate in terms of how much they like dramatizing everything.” Rolo laughs at that. And it’s light, free - the brief tension from just seconds ago has evaporated into barely even a memory.

He runs into Acxa at Starbucks. She brightens up and greets him with a big hug, all sweaters and scarves and warmth. They spend a couple minutes just like that - until Keith has the sense to step away and pay attention to her company. Zethrid and Narti, sitting with their coffee steaming up through little lipstick-coated lids.

“Narti,” he greets. “It’s great to see you. And you, Zethrid.” He smiles and shakes hands.

“Didn’t know you were going to be here, Keith,” Acxa says brightly. “Sit with us.”

“I can say the same about you,” he points out as he and Rolo join them. “What are you even doing here?”

“Celebrating New Year’s Eve,” Zethrid says, deadpan.

Rolo snorts. “Coincidence.” Narti signs something in response that makes Zethrid laugh and from there it’s easy, happy, natural. Keith doesn’t talk much but he enjoys company. There’s Acxa next to him and Rolo across from him, two colleagues occupying the other spots around the table. His name’s being called so he can go pick up his coffee. The clock is ticking toward next year and he air is cold and his knees are stiff and his toes are frozen and his nose is stuffed up but he’s at ease, for once.

They all head out together as it gets closer to the end of the year. Keith laces his fingers through Acxa’s for help ice skating - Narti and Zethrid both decide to go purchase more drinks when Rolo finally asks, “are you two... involved?”

“In what?” Keith asks without understanding.

“Each other?”

Acxa chokes on her coffee. “No,” she says. “Keith’s like a brother to me.” She smiles fondly at him. “The thought never even occurred to me.”

“Yeah,” Keith agrees stupidly. “Me neither.”

“Does it seem like it?”

Rolo raises his eyebrows at Acxa’s question. “Yeah, you two are so comfortable with each other.”

Acxa seems crestfallen. “So people think we’re together?” Keith isn’t following the conversation. Like, he’s following the conversation - but there’s a second conversation Acxa is having and he’s not getting it.

“They must.”

And Zethrid and Narti are back and he drops the topic.

-

Christmas has never been a big deal for Keith. When he was younger he would do something small with his dad - but it was really just another holiday, a day where his dad was home and they’d have a present or two, that was it. He never even knew it was supposedly a bigger deal than, say, Easter, or Valentine’s Day - until years later.

People always got excited about big family get togethers, made jokes about the pain of discussing politics over a banquet, talked about all the money and cool junk they got for Christmas, planned massive parties and made long lists of people to gift. He never.... understood any of that. It was like one big experience he was consistently left out on - and as a result he didn’t understand anything about it and when people talked about it he could never contribute.

The first time he really experienced Christmas the way it’s apparently meant to be experienced was when he went to Lance’s place for the holidays.

It was absolute chaos. Lance has such a big family and such a small house that every inch of it is consistently humming with energy. Everywhere Keith turned there was cooking, cleaning, screaming, running, bickering, decorating, and it was... really kind of wonderful. It was one thing he wished he’d had growing up.

Of course that was the year Krolia showed up. And that - that was too much. Family reunion? Great. Keith’s family reunion?

It sent him into a panic.

So... even when Christmas was the best it had ever been in Keith’s entire life, it was still.... not that spectacular.

New Years, though, has always been something he treasures.

It’s festive, something to celebrate for _real._ It’s closing a chapter and starting over. Refreshing. A new endeavor on a new horizon. Everyone Keith knows celebrates New Year’s Eve - it’s the most formal he almost ever gets and the weather is always crisp and fresh and the people are always buzzing and his blood is always thrumming with just - _excitement._

Keith likes moving. Pushing forward. He can’t stand stagnancy. He likes growing, improving, changing, switching calendars, turning pages, just.... moving.

He likes New Year’s Eve. It’s always meant something hopeful to him. When he was younger his dad would cut cake with him - the one time he was allowed to stay up until midnight. The garrison held a New Years party and it was the one holiday for which all classes would be rescheduled - no one had any obligations, everyone could start the year relaxed and free.

He likes the concept of resolutions. He appreciates drive and commitment and the idea of setting a standard and holding it up, the idea of a permanent promise to yourself, the idea of making sure right from the beginning that your next year is better than your previous year. It’s like taking your luck into your own hands. Choosing what kind of person you’ll be.

It’s cheesy and ridiculous but he loves it.

* * *

_Keith’s screaming the countdown to the next year, watching the clock over Allura’s shoulder where it ticks down on her phone screen. “Eight!”_

_It’s coming._

_“Seven!”_

_He glances over at Lance, who is grinning and calling out the numbers alongside him._

_“Six!”_

_He squeezes Lance’s hand. Lance squeezes back._

_“Five!”_

_Lance’s gaze flicks over to meet Keith’s. Keith still can’t believe he’s here - not with his own family, which is no doubt having all kinds of fun, but here - with Keith and the closest thing Keith has to family and they’ve only even been dating for a few months or so._

_“Four!”_

_There’s a glint in Lance’s eyes. They crinkle at the corners._

_“Three!”_

_Lance is pulling on his hand, drawing him closer, until he lets go and slides his hand around Keith’s waist._

_“Two!”_

_He’s turning._

_“One!”_

_His hand is on Keith’s jaw._

_“Happ-“ is all that Keith manages to get out because then Lance’s lips are over his, and the shock of it makes Keith’s spine go rigid and he forgets where he is for a few seconds. His hands move on purely muscle memory, trailing past Lance’s shoulders and weaving dazedly up into his hair. Lance’s lips are sliding and slipping against Keith’s as he fights down a smile, a flurry of short breaths fluttering over Keith’s cheeks, the both of them out of breath from screaming through the countdown._

_The roar around Keith is silent as his world narrows into this one point of contact - Lance’s mouth connected to his mouth, fit like there’s no other place they should be occupying, no other thing they should be doing._

_“Happy- oh, my god.” Pidge. Pidge’s voice._

_Keith gasps and pulls backward away from Lance, eyes widening as he turns to his left and focuses on where she’s standing, hands extended awkwardly for a hug as her gaze flicks back and forth between Lance and Keith._

_Lance doesn’t spare a single moment for her. He steps forward, pulling Keith into his arms and dipping him, smirking appreciatively at the way Keith fumbles for purchase around the back of his neck, and goes right back to kissing Keith like nothing else matters._

_“Happy New Year, Keith,” Lance whispers into Keith’s mouth, and that’s how they_ officially _announce to all of Keith’s friends that they’re together._

* * *

Keith’s resolution is that whatever this is, he’s going to fix it. Lance is worth that - and if it takes him days or if it takes him years, he’s going to fix himself and relearn all the ways to love Lance so it lasts. Keith can do that. Lance is worth that.

The truth is, it sucks shit. It sucks _shit._ Not having Lance to turn to no matter what mood he’s in sucks shit. Having to reconnect with old friends and start networking some more sucks shit. Watching Shiro be happy with Allura and their three devil children and then going back to lie in his apartment and draw sucks shit.

But Keith likes moving. He likes throwing one calendar in the recycling and pinning up the new one. He likes throwing out his old clothes and cleaning up his shit and opening his new tablet pen and creating and redefining relationships. So as much as it sucks shit, he swears to himself he’s going to fucking fix it.

* * *

“Happy new year,” he says cheerily at the camera, hovering over Acxa’s shoulder.

Lance grins at him from the screen. “Actually, you’re late,” he says. “I’ve been on this side of the calendar for hours.”

“Not my fault you chose to go film in the future,” Keith throws back easily.

“You two are in a good mood,” Ezor says. Lance laughs and ruffles her hair, which causes her to fall out of her chair as she bats at his arm and misses.

“Are you tired?” Acxa laughs. “Did you get any sleep?”

“My beautiful co-star is hungover,” Lance snorts. “You’re lucky you don’t have a scene until this evening.”

“Still?” Keith says. “You’ve been up for...” he tries to remember the German timezone. “A while.”

“Oh, and how drunk are you, king of impulse control?” Lance demands.

“I didn’t drink,” Keith laughs, offended. “Acxa and I went ice skating and got some Starbucks.”

“You did?” Ezor asks.

“Classic white girl Keith,” Lance hisses.

“Okay, I gotta ask,” Ezor says, and her head is dropping into her hands like she’s exhausted, which, she probably is. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do it this way. But- you two.... how serious are you?”

“Serious?” Lance says.

“Like... you’re dating? Or just like each other, or..?”

Acxa smiles the softest smile Keith has ever seen on her face. “Actually, we’re not together. And we’ve both had feelings for someone else for quite a long time.”

“Really,” Ezor says, blinking. “So you’re...”

“All four of us are regrettably single,” Lance says. And Keith knows he’s just cracking jokes like he always does, but - ‘regrettably?’ Always nice to keep confirming he still has a chance with Lance. Because like he decided just hours ago - he’s going to fix this.

“So I was actually out ice skating with Narti - the love of your life - and Zethrid,” Acxa clarifies. “And Keith was going out with Rolo, another set designer. We just happened to run into each other by coincidence.”

“Rolo?” Lance says, tone teasing. “Didn’t know you guys were hanging out.”

“Yeah,” Keith says after the awkward second it takes him to realize it’s his cue to speak. “Uh, been in touch recently. We just text and stuff.”

“Aw, you don’t text me, though,” Lance pouts. It’s playful though. Happy. Keith grins.

“Maybe if you weren’t something like nine hours ahead we’d communicate easier.” It earns him the laugh he’s been waiting for.

Keith doesn’t need to drink, honestly. Lance’s smile, grainy through the screen and the shitty lighting is intoxicating.

“Narti’s not the love of my life,” Ezor says, voice rough. “She’s like my sister, more like.”

“You sure you don’t like her,” Lance smirks.

“Very. Sure.” Ezor’s voice is tight. Then she squeezes her eyes closed and shakes her head. “I need my rest. Wake me before shooting.” She pats Lance on the shoulder once before leaving the screen.

“Sleep well!” Acxa calls cheerily. “She doesn’t look like she’s having the best time.”

“Yeah, I’ll take care of her, don’t worry.” Lance winks through the screen. “You guys should get some rest as well before Keith turns into a raccoon.”

“Funny.”

“Will do,” Acxa laughs. “Bye, Lance.”

Lance salutes them with two fingers, and then the call ends.

-

Keith checks Twitter the next morning to hundreds of new followers. He blinks at the massive influx of notifications, some of them dating back to art he never wants to see again - god, he can't believe he still has some of this shit _up_ \- and generally sips his coffee in bafflement.

He opens up his laptop view things easier and scrolls through his feed a little bit, but there’s no hints there - tries to read through the comments on some of his more recent works.

**your sO TALENTED**

**this is kind of amazing holy shit**

**We all know artists are talented with their fingers... ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)**

**I LOCE THIS**

**who tops**

**literal actual Art God™**

**Are all artists gay? Thought you were normal. Kys.**

**just as talented as your boyfriend!!!!**

That last one has him pausing. What. A very small percentage of his Twitter followers actually know who he is in real life. His relationship with Lance has never been brought up there before. He has a feeling the two are connected, so he clicks over to his mentions, and there -

Several notifications down -

**Happy New Years everyone, shoutout to my beloved @kogane_art!! Check him out guys, he’s very talented and deserves all the recognition both in the set industry and outside of it.**

Keith balks. Holy fucking _shit._ Lance really just.... did that????

It makes something in his chest spark up all vibrant and warm. He’s gonna win him back over. He swears he is.

* * *

It’s not even a week later and Keith loses his resolve. The fact remains that Lance is in Germany and nothing is changing. Nothing. Keith doesn’t know _how_ to change things. Everything inside him is screaming to text Lance, but he’s probably busy filming, or sleeping. He wishes he could.... he doesn’t know, just do _something._ He’s just kind of stuck, doomed to wait for Lance to get back to California before he can so much as get coffee with him.

Allura makes it to the cover of the Valentine’s Day Victoria’s Secret magazine, which is fucking awesome and he’s happy for her, but it hits him kind of all of a sudden that it’s gonna be _Valentine’s Day_ soon. And Lance is still going to be in Germany, so... whatever is Keith supposed about that? Shit, should he mail him flowers? Probably not again.

Lance was always better at these gestures.

Krolia and he start going shooting on the weekends. It helps Keith find his focus - he’s honestly shit with a gun, but it gives him one singular aim to push towards, lets him drown out every other thought in his mind. He’s sick of being constantly broken-hearted, constantly wallowing in his post-breakup depression. He needs to get it _out._

* * *

“I’m going back to school, I think,” Keith murmurs quietly while Leia and Luna scream at Shiro’s character on the screen.

Shiro grins wide, eyes flicking over to Keith. “Keith, that’s great! Are you applying?”

“No, I have no idea how to do that,” he says flatly. “But I never finished my degree and... I’d like to.” Realistically, at this point he doesn’t really need to finish his degree. He’s doing well, he’s got a relatively stable job, and maybe he’s falling somewhere among the lower middle class but he’s doing pretty okay. Financially. But he’d like to... it was important to him, at one point, and he’d like to wear that cap and gown.

He’s gonna be honest, he’s enjoying himself. Leia and Luna are in gymnastics now and while Keith hasn’t done that shit since high school, he goes with them to open gym sometimes and it feels so fucking good to move himself. His roundoffs are sloppy as hell and he falls directly on his knee while trying an English on the beam but - honestly? Maybe he’s limping for a few minutes but he’s happy. Minus the whole breakup thing, but that’s just always there. He’s learning how to live without him. He’s rediscovering who he was before he started taking Lance for granted.

And... so it goes. He has like barely any time to put together his applications - but he sends some off to a couple different schools and if anything he knows the Academy of the Arts is still there. He spends time making a playlist for Lance because - because what the fuck. They’re not actually dating, so anything too personal would make things a little weird. But anything without thought would put them under scrutiny. So.... good old-fashioned mixtape.

He’s chilling in Shiro’s living room with his laptop and Spotify open, scrolling through the playlists Lance and he made years ago when the doorbell rings and he doesn’t think much of it but Leia goes sprinting to get the door and Leo - downstairs for the first time in his life, probably - goes after her and he’s telling her not to open the door by herself because Allura’s very overprotective and scared someone could threaten her family and so Keith took it upon himself to deviously make sure the twins knew it was perfectly okay to drive her up the wall.

And Leo says, “Dad?”

Shiro’s in the kitchen. He’s struggling with ... pie, Keith thinks it’s supposed to be. He wishes Shiro’d given up his useless hobby the first time he’d fucked up a simple dish. Or the second. Or the twentieth.

Shiro wipes his hands briefly on a towel and he’s turning the corner until he has a view of the door and - he stops. “Oh,” he says, and his tone makes Keith glance up.

Keith already has a view of the door. And Oh is right.

“Can I come in?” Adam asks nervously.

Keith’s brain falls out. It’s gone, he can’t think. There’s a brief flash of memory, Shiro sitting with his head in his arms at their table, the tiny black letters spelling out MIA and Keith doesn’t even know what that means but he knows they’ve changed Shiro’s life forever.

And he’s back. And he’s speaking. “You went missing,” he says, words tumbling out of his mouth like he’s Lance. But it’s the truth. Adam looks sheepish.

“Yeah, come in,” Shiro says softly.

-

They’re standing comfortably around the kitchen counter.

“I’m so sorry I missed your wedding,” Adam laughs. “It took me a while to get back on my feet after my rescue.”

Shiro smiles at him affectionately. “It’s just good to see you again after all these years,” he murmurs.

Keith can see that look in Shiro’s eye. The one that says, _if things had been different._ If Adam came home from the Navy that night. If Shiro didn’t spend months learning to move past him. If it didn’t take a few more years for Shiro to even trust love again, if instead of Allura it was Adam kneeling with a ring.

It’s not a want.

But a wonder.

And Keith can’t help it - he cant help it, okay - he cant help thinking that he doesn’t want that future. He doesn’t want to learn to be happy with someone other than Lance. He doesn’t want to wake up one day and not feel the ever-burning connection to Lance that defines his life right now.

Couples are supposed to move on when they break up. He gets that. Shiro _exemplifies_ that.

But he really. Really. Really doesn’t want to.

Last song he adds to his playlist for Lance is _I Won’t Give Up._

* * *

_Keith is suffering through withdrawal. He hadn’t realized his smoking had gotten this bad - but it’s been about 3 days since he smoked and he’s shaking. He can't sleep, he’s fatigued - he can't concentrate on_ anything. __

_Lance is saying something. Keith blinks at him. “Yeah,” he says casually, nodding._

_“That was not a yes or no question,” Lance laughs slightly, and Keith winces._

_“Sorry...” he looks down at the table. “I’m just... tired.”_

_“Really, you seem jumpier than me,” Lance muses. “When you’re not, like, spacing out. You okay?”_

_“I’m fine,” Keith insists. “Tired.”_

_“Yeah? I’ll buy you coffee.”_

_“No thanks,” he says. “I’m having enough trouble sleeping as it is.”_

_“Trouble sleeping?” Lance raises his eyebrows. “Okay, so I’m no doctor, but that’s quite a list. What’s up. Are you stressed about something?”_

_“What? I...” is he? Not really? “No.”_

_Lance studies him carefully. He nods. “Really.... anything to do with school..?”_

_Like, yeah, there is always something stressful going on in school. But, “no, I’m fine,” and he’s starting to sound annoyed. He’s not annoyed - is he? - but he does wish Lance would move on._

_Lance is quiet for a bit, eyes darting around the Starbucks they’re sitting at. “Is this... something to do with me?”_

_Keith’s eyebrows pinch together. “Why would it be you.”_

_And... the way that comes out of his mouth is. Is bad. Sounds dismissive._

_Lance shrugs, though. “Dunno, man, I dunno if you can tell but you don’t seem to be into this.” He’s swirling the straw of his frap around and around. Around. And around._

_Campus is using paper straws. The texture is reminiscent of ash and fire, coarse breath and smoke tickling his insides, settling his nerves. Lance rolls the straw between his fingers. Around and around._

_“Keith?”_

_“I... I just need sleep,” he mumbles. “That’s it.”_

_“Okay, so I guess that means you’re not going out tonight.”_

_He’d forgotten that. “Yeah.” He pauses. “Sorry.”_

_Lance shrugs. “It’s chill. I get it man, you need to rest. Let me know if you... need anything... though.”_

_Keith nods. His throat is burning with how hard he’s been trying not to cough in front of Lance._

_“I’ll walk you home,” Lance offers._

_Keith doesn’t want Lance to walk him home - he wants to walk to the drugstore and buy a pack of cigs and calm himself down in the parking lot. He wants to_ smoke. __

_But if Lance walks him home, he’ll have someone to hold his hand until they get there. If Lance walks him home he’ll kiss him goodbye when they reach Keith’s apartment complex. If Lance walks him home... if Lance._

_Keith sighs, throat itching. “Yeah, sure.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y’all! Wow this chapter took forever. Hope it was worth the wait
> 
> If you’ve stuck with me this far I love you to death. If you’re a new reader I still love you to death because you’ve probably just spent a lot of time on this fic so... remember to get some water ahaha
> 
> things are going to start taking a turn for a better in this fic. Let’s balance out the angst, shall we?
> 
> Also I kinda want an actual name to this fic so comment suggestions, things that make you think of this fic, mood/vibes you get from this fic, songs that make you think of this fic etc below! I’m a slut for symbolism and connotative meanings

**Author's Note:**

> [Playlist](https://open.spotify.com/user/yush.yush/playlist/54F1Us5tIohzmSfeRSBavZ)
> 
> [tumblr](https://stupid-altean-pools.tumblr.com/)
> 
> i have no schedule for this. it's my vent fic so writing pace fluctuates a lot with this - and as a senior in the full IB Diploma Programme i have. no time. but thanks for reading, make sure to leave kudos and comments, I hope you have a nice day!


End file.
